


Persist, Resist, or Die

by SepZet



Series: Beauty and the Beast [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Cannibalism, Decapitation, F/M, Graphic Description of Corpses, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:29:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22947079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SepZet/pseuds/SepZet
Summary: AU of Despair. September's attempt to end her life goes awry, and she finds herself terribly, horribly alive. Thankfully, those lovesick thoughts seem to have been sheared away with a section of her skull, thanks to a poorly aimed bullet. She's given a second chance at survival, though she doesn't have high hopes for herself.She stays in Cadeau, risking her sanity and her life in the possibility of reuniting with the worst ex-lover the world has known.She's stubborn. Always has been. And she will survive, this time.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: Beauty and the Beast [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1649125
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	1. New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> And we're back at it again with September Mendax and Black McGrath. For those of you who read Despair, I know there were a lot of mixed feelings about how I ended it. I just didn't see September making it out alive at the end, with how much she loved Black.  
> But here she is again, because it seemed kind of fun to give her another chance. Will Black gain control again? Will Sep manage to gain the upper hand this time? Hard to say! Let's have some fun, eh?
> 
> Cadeau and Black belong to NuclearGers on Twitter. Go give a warm hello and thanks!

Pain was a constant. It was hard to believe that there was a time that she wasn’t suffering. But that was pretty self centered, wasn’t it? Plenty of people suffered, plenty of people experienced pain far worse than her.

Then again, her head was really fucking pounding.

Even taking a breath made her head pulse with pain. It was like the worst headache the world had ever experienced. 

What the actual fuck?

Peeling her eyes open was a struggle in itself. Her eyes were gummy, sticking shut, refusing to open. She didn’t have many regrets in life, but one of them was definitely whatever she had done to make her head hurt that fucking much.

A soft groan filtered out of her throat, her eyes clamping shut as a struggle against the throbbing ache. Laying there with her eyes closed wasn’t doing anything to stop the pain, so she might as well get up and do something about it. Except her head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Pounds and pounding, haha.

Slipping her hand up, she felt gingerly over her cheek. Up higher, and she could feel the soft rasp of cloth. Gauze. Bandages. Up further, and it was more than a thin layer, bulking up into much softer padding, but still raspy. More gauze. Bandages for something big?

That was unexpected. And most importantly, what the fuck happened?

Everything was a blur. It was a lot like being hung over, but she couldn’t remember the last time that she had drunk alcohol. Last she recalled was…well, she didn’t know. Shattered pieces, broken memories that didn’t quite fit together. A porch? A hospital? That didn’t make sense.

No, wait. A loud noise. A noise so loud and sudden and deafening, and then darkness.

Well, that didn’t make sense. She was probably missing some parts there. Maybe she could take it apart a bit more than that.

Her head was bandaged. She was in a bed. A hospital bed? No, it smelled too musky to be a hospital bed. A normal bed.

Wounded. In a bed. Loud noise.

Descriptive. Not knowing what was happening should be an unfamiliar feeling, but she was under the impression that her life was a mess, and nothing in her life was in order, in a proper alignment. She was a mess of the most dramatic form. How she continued to exist on that miserable planet was a wonder in itself.

Okay. She couldn’t lay there forever. She didn’t even know where she was, what had happened. She just had to get up. Even though even the thought of moving made her head hurt even more. Pain was nothing. She had to move.

Rolling, she braced her arms under her, pushing hard, trying to hoist herself up. No strength in her limbs, though. She wavered, shook. Maybe baby steps were in order.

Just an elbow would do. Just an elbow.

“Whoa there, take it easy.”

Her head snapped around, only to make the world sway and swirl, pain and nausea taking over until she could only collapse onto the mattress. What the fuck.

“Yeah, you deserved that. You have to take it easy.” The voice approached, and a weight settled on the edge of the bed. “Surprised you woke up.”

Lovely. Always good to hear that.

“What the fuck,” she grumbled, just hiding her face against the pillow. “What is happening?”

“You’re going to make things worse, that’s what’s happening.” Hands grabbed her shoulder, coaxing her into rolling over. “So could you just relax?”

Relax. Sure. Once safely on her back, she took a breath, steadying herself. Once the nausea stopped roiling in her gut, she dared to open her eyes again, to take in the sights. Even if they were confusing, it would give her something to grasp on to. Even if it didn’t make sense.

“Ruby?” That couldn’t be right. It was an age ago, and somehow, she knew that hair in the messy bun, the tired eyes of someone who worked in food service. “How are you…how am I here?”

The waitress tsked, reaching up to straighten the bandages on her head. “You’re here because you’re a mess. That’s why. Causing Blackie such problems. Shame on you.”

Black.

The memories came so suddenly and in such a flood that it was like being smacked in the face. Her head might have even jerked with the force of it all. It was hard to tell.

Rough hands, scars, sharp teeth and meat, and stench, and pure weight and inside her, inside her, twisted thoughts and pure senseless action. The running. Him reaching for her, his eyes wild. Golden pinpricks, drool beading on his lips. The cold metal in her hand. The gun. The tears and the absolute despair-

Throwing herself to the side, she promptly inhaled and puked. Well, she tried to puke, but nothing came up. Mostly just dry heaving.

“I told you not to move so much. Head wounds are nasty business.”

“What the fuck happened?” She was screeching, without regard for her head. Of course, that made it hurt more than before, but that was okay.

“Blackie said you had a mistake with a gun? Bullet skated right off the side of your head. Cracked your skull some. It’s going to be a while before you’re in ship-shape. Plus that knee of yours is the worst.”

“Why am I here?” She tried to shoot herself. She remembered leveling the gun at the side of her head, and she remembered seeing Black lunge towards her. She remembered the crack, the pain, and then nothing.

“Because he brought you here. I trained to be a nurse for a while. Became a waitress to pay off loans, and here I am, eight years later. You do what you can with what you have, you know?” Ruby tsked, hauling her back over, forcing her to lay back. “Now you need to rest. Black’ll be even more upset if he comes back to find you in an even worse state. He was very upset, you know.”

Yeah, she was sure. Because she almost died before he had a chance to kill her. A chance to choke the life out of her. A chance to destroy her for his own enjoyment.

“So. Let’s get you fixed up.”

Fixed up. Hah. Was she even capable of being fixed? She’d gotten out, gotten away from him, away from someone who didn’t care about her. And she’d gone back. She’d gone back to him, words of love in her mouth, her tongue thick with sickly sweet poison as she threw herself at a man who wanted her dead. He’d taken her devotion and tried to crush it between his fingers.

She’d almost died because of him. She had one life, one existence, and she tried to snuff it out for him, all for him. He didn’t deserve that kind of devotion. He didn’t deserve what she had been willing to give.

She’d broken. She had been broken entirely, and with a fractured skull, maybe she had become a little bit more whole.

Hard to say. She did have a head wound.

Laughter so wanted to bubble up, but there was no point. It would only hurt, and nothing about that situation was funny.

“I just can’t believe Blackie even thought to bring you here after what you did to him.”

“What I did to him?” She snorted, tears bubbling up. “And tell me what I did to him?”

“You broke his heart, you damn fool. You upped and left him, broke up with him. Shame on you. I mean, you must have realized what you did to him. You came back, anyways.” Ruby clucked, shoving a thermometer in her mouth. “Never gonna find a man better than ol’ Blackie.”

Oh fuck right off. “Yeah? And what about my side of the story?”

Ruby sniffed, folding her hands in her lap, fixing her in her stare. “Yeah? And what could he have done to you?”

Countless things. Horrible, awful things, but what could she say? Should she say it? No one would believe her. They knew Black, trusted Black, loved Black.

So she could only turn her face away, letting out a shaking breath. “So. I broke his heart, hm?”

“Of course you did. Damn man was fond of you. Got all irritable once you left, snapping and hissing at everyone. He was a mess without you. I don’t think he should take you back.”

Yeah, well, hopefully he wouldn’t either. Because she had no confidence in her strength.

Months of adoring her abuser would do that to a person. What would she do when she saw him again? Would she go insane again, love him? Or would she lash out? It was hard to tell. She never knew what kind of person she was until it happened. She always thought she would act one way, and then would prove herself wrong and be different, be contradictory.

Ruby just patted her and left her, letting her rest. Maybe she sensed the conversation was over. Maybe Ruby was smarter than she knew. It was hard to tell.

Everything had twisted up. She had become something different. Life had a nasty way of throwing surprises at people. She wasn’t immune. She was just as much of a victim as anyone else.

It was her fault. She shouldn’t have come back.

No, no, she was a victim. Everything she had done was a product of what he had done to her. All of it was his fault.

And yet again, somehow, he had the thought to bring her to some kind of medical professional. Professional-ish. First the hospital, then Ruby, making sure she was healthy for his torture games. What a fucked up bastard.

She might have slept for a while. With the head pain, sleep might have just been being passed out. Because there was a difference.

She did remember something her mother said when she was little. She remembered that. It wasn’t like she had any fond memories of that woman that claimed to be her mother, but she did remember some of the foul things she said.

Like how she’d never find love. Her mother said she was broken, one incapable of love. Maybe she was right. Maybe she didn’t deserve to find love if she would fall apart and believe that she loved a man like Black McGrath.

She knew part of it wasn’t her fault, but there were moments where he was gentle with her, where she forgot all that he had done and she genuinely enjoyed his company. He was quiet, and if she thought deep down, she knew he was her type. She liked them tall and strong. He was perfect, in that sense.

How sad was that? He tried to take her away from the world, to take her chance to love for real.

Maybe that was a good thing. She had thought that she loved him. He was a horrible man, and she’d thought that she could be happy with him. Somehow, she’d made it through the gauntlet that he was, somehow survived.

With a cracked skull, but okay. That was allowed.

With each day that Ruby cared for her, she felt yet more twisted up. She kept thinking of him. It made sense that she did. Months with anyone would do that. Still, it was a relief to realize that not every thought were of the good times. She hated him. He disgusted her.

Yeah, her mother had been right. She would never actually fall in love. She’d get all twisted up, get obsessed with a psychopath until that brought her inevitable death. Good thing she managed to survive, and good thing he got her to help.

Why, she had no idea. Why he did anything, she hadn’t the slightest. He was a strange and unique man. Or was he? Was he typical? Did every man have such torturous and homicidal tendencies? Was the temptation to strangle and rape strong in every man? Every person? Surely not. There were intrusive thoughts, but not many people would act on it.

Would they? Press a man enough, would others find pleasure in hurting innocent people? But was she truly innocent? Who was ever innocent? She’d done her share of horrible things, but she had never killed someone.

Whatever had made Black into a murderer, it wasn’t worth it. There had to have been some catalyst to make him want to hurt others. Not that she wanted to understand him. He didn’t deserve to be understood. He was a monster, pure and simple.

“It’ll be some time before you’re one hundred percent, but I have to say, you look like you’re doing much better now.” Ruby daubed at the wound with some alcohol soaked cotton balls, clucking at her own pained flinches. “You’ll be a bit dizzy for a while yet. Cracked skulls aren’t a joke.”

Sure, yeah. Every time she rolled over, her sinuses drained. At least, she thought it was mucus coming out of her face. It didn’t matter.

“You’ll need lots of rest. Don’t lay on that side of your head. If you start to feel fucked up again, don’t come back to me because I only did this as a favor to Black, and you’ve reached the end of my generosity because I don’t fucking like you.”

She snorted, slowly sitting up from the bed. Her hair was sticky with old blood, old sweat, old shame. What she needed was a shower and some food. “Whatever, Ruby. Thanks for helping me. You can go on and fuck Black if you want. I’m done with him.”

“Wha- really?” Ruby perked up, watching her hobble out of the bed to get dressed. “Do you think he’ll go for me?”

“I don’t know. Probably. Just…go up to him and ask him to fuck you. I’m under the impression that he’s down for anything and anyone.” Because a live person would be a vast improvement over the corpses he fucked.

“I’d like to date him, you know. He’s a damn nice man.”

Sure he was. Whatever. Dragging on her clothes, she tried to pull her hair into some semblance of a ponytail, if only to hide the fact that there were weird fluids in her hair. He had a plan for everything. Nothing was ever on accident, was it?

“Thanks for helping me, Ruby. I know you don’t like me at all. I know you just did it for Black. But thanks.” Now she just had to figure herself out. With a cracked skull. For fuck’s sake.

She could go back to California, but why? There was nothing for her there. Plus, she had some inkling that Doctor Wolfe would come looking for her there, and she really did not want to deal with that conversation.

She could always do what she said she would do. Start over, be new. The weather of the south now seemed to suit her, what with the months she spent there. There was still plenty of money in her savings. Moving around wouldn’t be a problem, so she could just try different places until she found one that suited her.

And she could try there. She could try Cadeau.

Ruby at least helped her over to the front door. That was fine. She let herself out onto Ruby’s front steps. The waitress lived more in town, with more houses around, with the classic southern aesthetic. There were broken down cars in front yards, entire couches on front porches. It was all very fascinating.

She would try to focus on it entirely if not for the familiar shape of a man leaning against the side of a truck. A tall man, strong beyond belief, filthy and scarred, a man that she didn’t want to see ever again in her entire life.

Black McGrath, chewing his toothpick, staring off into the distance. He was just as she remembered. Filthy. Of course she would remember him. How long had it been since she had seen him? Hard to tell how long she had been passed out. She wasn’t about to go and ask Ruby again. 

An adult would confront him. Call the cops. Report him for making her shoot herself in the head.

She was not an adult.

What she did instead was turn right off of Ruby’s walkway and lurch into the bushes. The bushes were preferable to even going near him. What would he do? What would she do? Everything from then on was new territory.

Because she was different now. With a hole in her head and an empty, gaping wound where her heart was. With any luck, hate would fill the spot that-

No. Stop it. Scowling at herself, she just kept limping through the bushes, away from him. She had an opportunity to fix all the mistakes she had made, change everything she had been directing herself towards and just…start over. Live her life, start over, and work on forgetting all that happened.

Survival had not been an option. Looking back, she realized that she hadn’t been expecting to live. She had gone to die, gone, never to return. There was no way, even in her broken brain, that she had thought that it was going to go well.

Of course, that brought to mind another, more important question.

Why the fuck had Black been waiting for her outside of Ruby’s place?

The answer was…there was no way that he had been doing that. He could have been waiting for someone else. Maybe Ruby had jumped the gun and called Black up immediately once she had some imaginary permission from Sep. That made more sense.

She was crazy, not stupid. The only reason he could have been there for her would be to try and kill her again. Except he took her to Ruby to be fixed up. But he had wanted to strangle her. So. He just wanted to keep trying to strangle her. Probably the worst way to die, in her book. So. She would be avoiding that.

Weaving her way through back yards and old brush, she worked her way to a street. She had to remain around people. People were witnesses. People were…

People hadn’t helped, before. He had brought her to town plenty of times. Tons of people had seen her, and that hadn’t stopped her attempted death. Murder. Suicide. But he had said that if she had been better settled in the community, then maybe…

She should leave. Go far away, leave. But there was no way she could do that, right? There had been a reason that she had come back. Something would always draw her back, something would always make her come to Cadeau. She should stay.

Start a life there. But avoid Black at all cost.

Big bastard.

Grumbling under her breath, she limped down the road. She had to find some way to get going again. If she was going to stay in Cadeau, then she would need to find a place to live. A job. She had her savings, but that wouldn’t last her forever.

Planning for a future she had never expected to have. Cruel fate smiled upon her then.

When was the last time she had even gone hunting for an apartment? She had a computer then, resources at her disposal. All she had then were the clothes on her back. There were ways to get to her bank information, but that was still going to be a struggle.

It was the least that she deserved for so blindly going back to Cadeau when she had gotten out.

Black may have come for her eventually. He knew everything about her.

Not everything. She could not begin to pretend that he had even cared to know anything about her. Not that it mattered. He was a murderer. Rapist. Cannibal.

Fuck, it had been so nice to see his horrible, ugly face again.

No. Terrible. Awful.

She started to recognize the streets around her. That was good. That meant she was getting further into town. Among people. Maybe she could find a bank or something. Talk about getting to her money. That was how it worked, right? Fuck, she was a stupid wealthy piece of shit that didn’t know how anything worked.

A wave of dizziness overtook her, making her stumble. Head injury, right. She’d forgotten. Food might also be a good idea. But she’d need money for that.

Decisions, decisions.

Maybe if she looked pathetic enough, someone would give her food for free.

A nearby bar caught her eye. At least, she figured it was a bar. It certainly looked like one. And bars usually had food scraps that they could possibly maybe share with her. She’d try to flirt for food if she didn’t look half dead. She’d figure it out.

The bar door was propped open by what looked to be a carved fish, arching out of simulated waves in a grace arch. Nice. Her eyes locked on it for a while as she limped into the dim light of the bar before she remembered that she was there on the hunt for food.

The interior of the bar was the typical sort of olden look, with beat up old tables and stools. Most bars that she had been in were connected to bustling restaurants, but that one was quiet. It wasn’t without a large stage on the edge of the room, though. It was definitely before the regular business hours, but there were still a few people in there, sitting in the booths along the walls, nursing frosty beers with plates of…something to eat.

Her stomach roared in response. Yeah. Okay. Focus.

Limping onwards to the bar, she leaned gratefully on the well oiled wood. There were no stools at the bar, but there was a long metal pole for bar-goers to rest their boots on.

“Well don’t you look like you’ve been kicked out of a moving truck on the freeway. You alright, honey?”

Geezus. Sep jolted in surprise, head whipping around too fast. Her vision swam, and the bar became a far more useful tool for not falling over.

“Oh shit, sorry, sorry. You okay?” A burly hand rested on her arm, keeping her from sliding off of the bar. “Shouldn’t have spooked you. Seriously, you look like shit. Do I need to call someone for you?”

“Nope. No. I’m fine. No one to call. Hah.” Bracing a hand against her brow, she breathed out slowly. Okay. “Give me a second.”

“Is…is that blood in your hair?”

“Sure is.” She managed to open her eyes, focusing on the bartender, which turned out to be the burliest woman she had ever seen in her life. Bulging tattooed arms, hair braided over her shoulder, she honestly looked like if Elsa had decided to build a gym instead of an ice palace. Pretty. “I swear I’m not a…I don’t know.”

“You need to sit down. Hold on there, sweetie, give me a second.” The bartender patted her once, then lunged away, snatching up a stool she apparently had hidden behind the bar for herself. Sweeping around to the other side, she thudded the stood down next to Sep, coaxing her into sitting on it.

Oh that felt nice. How far had she walked? She definitely had not completely healed yet. Fucking Ruby.

“Okay, now we’re all settled.” The bartender rubbed a gentle hand on her back, speaking lowly. “My name is Min. Short for Minerva. Because why not. And I’m going to reassure you that this is a safe place here, and you can absolutely tell me who did this to you.”

Hah. Haha. Oh that was funny. She grinned, just slumping against the bar. “Would you believe I did this to myself?” She grinned up at Min’s skeptical face. “Mmhm.” Forming her hand into a gun, she tapped the imaginary barrel against the side of her head. “Pew pew. Missed, though. Ruby patched me up. Mostly.”

“Oh. Well. Uh.” Probably not entirely expected, but Min stayed there, rubbing her back. “Good thing you missed then.”

“That remains to be seen, but sure.” Dropping her hand, she flashed a quick smile to Min. “Sorry. I thought I was a little more healed than this.”

“S’alright, darling. You’re welcome to rest here as much as you need to.”

Nice people. And yes somehow, she had ended up with Black the first time she had come to town. Lovely.

“Let me get you something to eat, something to drink. I’ve got a nice pot of chicken and wild rice soup simmering in the back. Mm? A nice bowl of soup?” Min actually stroked the back of her head, combing through the blood matted hair. “That should help.”

“I have absolutely no money. I’m really sorry.” Yeah, because now that Min was so fucking nice did she feel guilty about wanting to mooch free food from her.

“Don’t you worry about a thing. I can spare a bowl of soup for a wayward soul. You just stay there, I’ll be right back.”

Too nice. Oof. She didn’t exactly have any energy to argue, so she just remained sitting there, waiting for something to come and help her. At least she would get food. That was part of her journey at that point. She just had to worry about getting a place to live, getting to her money.

In no time at all, Min returned with a bowl of soup and a plate of bread, sliding it onto the bar in front of her. “Just got a fresh delivery of bread not an hour ago. Hope you’ll taste test it for me.” She gave her a bawdy wink, tapping the bar lightly. “I’ll grab you a glass of water too.”

“You’re a saint, Min. Thank you.”

“Of course. Hope you’ll repay me with a bit of a story while I get ready for this evening.”

Right. Picking up her spoon, she scooped up some of the thick soup, blowing over it. When she finally did put it in her mouth, her stomach hardly seemed to know how to handle it. Amazing. Her eyes fell closed. Pure, glorious heaven.

“There we are. Nothing better than a good bowl of soup, mm?”

“Oh yes. Thank you, Min. This is amazing.”

“Good.” Min got back to slicing up limes, setting up her station right in front of her. “So. What’s your story?”

Right. Some payment. “Oh. Um. I’m Sep. I…” How much should she say? “I suppose I’m Black’s ex-girlfriend.”

That made Min pause. Dammit, she knew that was a problem. Black was fucking famous in that shitty town. Should she stop eating? Leave?

“He break up with you, or…”

“I broke up with him, I guess.”

Min grinned, resuming her chopping. “Good.”

“Good?” Oh the bread was warm. Oh fuck yes. “I was under the impression that everyone liked Black.”

“Oh, he’s alright. He’s a good enough customer. Stinks to high heaven, though. And honestly, he needs to stop fucking people out back by my dumpster. Doesn’t seem to realize that sound carries into the kitchen.”

Of course he fucked people behind a bar. Gross man. Food was far more important at that point.

“I just…wait.” Min set down her knife, looking up at her again. “Is he the reason why you…”

No tact, hm? She smiled wryly, spooning some of the soup onto the edge of a piece of bread, taking a healthy bite of it. God the food was good. “Yeah.”

“Oh. Damn. Uh, sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m…better now, I guess. I just…felt too much. He didn’t feel the same.”

“To be perfectly blunt, I’m surprised he dated you. No offence. I didn’t think he ever made commitments like that.”

“Guess I was special.”

“Guess so.”

Min let her eat quietly for a while, just continuing her preparations for the evening. When she finally scraped the bowl clean, she rested her arms on the bar once more, looking her in the eye. “So. What’s the plan now?”

“I don’t know. Guess I need to find my own place, get a job. Settle in on my own.”

“So he kicked you out with nothing?”

“Ah. Yeah. Something like that.” Stacking her bowl on her plate, Sep leaned on the bar herself, letting her eyes close. She could really go for a nap.

“Well, I’ll tell you what. Work here for me, and I’ll let you live in the shed out back.”

Her eyes popped back open. Um. “Pardon?”

Min winced at herself, gripping her braid and twirling it around her other hand. “Well, It’s not really a shed. I mean, it was a shed, but I got it all fixed up. Insulated, plumbed, electrical…it’s nothing fancy, but its someplace to live. Usually rent it out to my waitresses, but you know, its vacant now.”

“Um. That’s…that’s extremely kind of you.”

“Eh, I really could use some help. We get busy in the evenings and we lost our last waitress the other week. She’s pregnant. Again. Don’t think she knows who the father is. I swear, that girl…” She rolled her eyes upwards, but waved it away. “You’d work Tuesday through Saturday, five to one. At night, of course. Pay you two hundred a week, you keep your tips.”

“And what would rent be?”

“Oh, that’s already taken out of your pay. That’s why you’re only paid two hundred.” Min’s smile stretched wide, sheepish. “Want to come look at the shed? It’s not furnished, but…”

That…didn’t seem right. “Why offer that to me? I mean, I come in looking like a corpse, and you offer me a place to live?”

“Hey. I’ve been through a rough breakup before. And let me tell you, if someone would have just offered me a leg up, I would have not have gotten half of the terrible tattoos that I currently have.”

That made Sep smile at the very least. Which was good enough for Min, as Min grinned nice and wide in return, revealing a single gold canine tooth.

“Come on, just take a peek at the shed. You don’t have to take the offer. It is, indeed, just a shed.” Min came around to her side of the bar, offering a burly arm. “If you would.”

What a charming woman. Sep snorted, taking her arm before daring to slide off of the stool. Her knee twinged at the sudden motion again, but at least she had Min’s support. The pair hobbled their way back behind the bar, and even through the kitchen to get to the back door. It was always a bit exhilarating to go into the back of a store, to see things that other people didn’t get a chance to see. Dumb things to focus on, but the pursuit of knowledge had always thrilled her.

Still, they made their way out back. Behind the bar was a bit of an abandoned field, with not much besides tall grass to decorate it. Further back in the field, close to a rickety looking fence, was the shed in question.

It was a nice looking shed, really. It had a little porch with an old chair perched off to the side of it. Once they made it to the shed, Min let her lean on the chair as she went about unlocking it, pushing the door wide.

The inside of the shed was deceptively nice. The walls were indeed finished, with the back seemingly sectioned off to a bathroom with some frosted glass. There was even a skylight. Kind of homey and quite a bit bigger than she imagined.

“See? Not so bad? Got a shower/bath back there behind the glass. Not much in terms of a kitchen, but I’m sure you could bring in a fridge and a hot plate or microwave there. Or you could just swing by the bar for a meal. Plenty of room for a couch and a TV here.”

“Not much room for a bed though.” She was being a shit about it, but hey, she was just pointing out the truth. “Could get a hide-a-bed couch though. So.”

“Mm? Oh! I mean…” Min shrugged, taking a few steps forward into the shed, then turned, gesturing upwards, above the door they came in. “There’s a loft, though.”

Oh what? She hobbled after her, standing beside her to look upwards. And just as she said, there was a loft. It must have been the roof area above the porch, a nice little nook with a ladder leading up to it. Judging from the light filtering over the edge, there was a window up there too.

“Not ideal, I know, but…eh?” Min shrugged again, but she left her hands up in the air that time. “Tempting?”

Actually…yes. Maybe that was just what she needed to get started. Work in a bar, paid minimally, she could…start over. She could dip into her savings to get stuff to furnish her shed, get set up nicely, and just…live. Reevaluate her life choices. She had always wanted to travel more, and living in Cadeau seemed…fine.

“Yes. I…I think I’ll take it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. This is wonderful, Min. Thank you. This is…amazing. Thank you. I’ve never been a waitress before, so this will be new to me.”

“I mean, you just need to walk drinks to people.”

“I probably won’t be able to balance a tray on one hand.”

“And no one says you have to. Seriously, we’ve got really good customers. Besides…I should mention that you will definitely see Black if you work here, you know. He does come in to the bar some evenings.”

Right. There was that. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Her head throbbed. “I’ll be okay. I can handle seeing him from time to time.”

Min gripped her shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. “Just as long as you’re sure. He usually comes around at least once a week. Usually with friends, and he usually stays at the bar. So I’ll be the one serving him, most times.”

Sure. Okay. It was what she wanted. That was all that she needed. She had to get everything sorted out. Maybe seeing him, facing Black every so often would remind her that he was a disaster worth avoiding. Her feelings were a lie, she didn’t have to think about him that way. Remember only the bad things. And Min seemed really nice. And muscular.

“I’m sure. I want the job.”

Min grinned, sliding her thick arm around her shoulders, dragging her in against her side. She smelled like copper. “Well alright then. Welcome to the team, Sep. Please don’t get pregnant and quit.”

Sep snorted, closing her eyes tight. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.”

Somehow, through the cruel twist of fate, she had another opportunity to continue living. She could do better that time. She would do better that time.


	2. New Job, Old Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's insane, no doubt about it. But she has a job now, so at least there's that.

There was enough time to go and pick up a goddamn knee brace before work started, just so long as she went fast.

Fast. Sure. Because she was good at that.

Brow set, she limped on down the street. It would be nice if Cadeau would have better sidewalks, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t paved with crippled people in mind. Oh fuck, she wasn’t crippled. She was just bitter about a fucked knee. Plenty of people had fucked up joints.

She just had the benefit of having it fucked up by a psychopath with a shotgun, no good disgusting-

Stop it. Stop it. Focus on the life she had in front of her.

So far so good with the whole bar thing. Min had been sweet enough to let her get settled the first couple of days, bringing old furniture that she’d scrounged up from neighbors. No matter how many times Sep reassured her that she didn’t need to fuss so much, Min insisted. Honestly, the only thing she was allowed to buy on her own was a mattress, and even that was a struggle.

Southern hospitality. Wasn’t anything like it.

But that night would be her first night of actually waitressing. Her head seemed to have healed enough to allow her an extended shift. Moving quickly didn’t make her dizzy like it used to, and her nose stopped leaking all kinds of weird liquids. Head wounds were a doozy.

Anyways, she just wanted to do well. Which meant getting a knee brace so she wouldn’t fall over.

She had time to think about shit as she walked. Not much else to do besides that.

How different would it have been if she had moved to Cadeau in the first place? Not that ever had any reason to live there, but it was an interesting thought to entertain as she hobbled down to the corner pharmacy. But hypothetically, if she had come to Cadeau to live, she would have bought a house. She would continue writing, of course. Be a recluse. Just like before. Just like always.

Geezus, she would really have no reason to be in Cadeau. Her book signing hadn’t even been in that backwater little town. There was no excuse for her to be there. To have met Black. Because it all led back to Black.

She was alive because of him.

That thought made her snort as she stepped into the peach-colored aisles of a mom-and-pop pharmacy. What a joke.

But it was true. She couldn’t deny that. He was the one who came in and stopped the first man from skinning and eating her immediately. Hard to accept that cannibalism was just that common. Or she just had the most incredible bad luck. Seemed unlikely, but it had happened, after all.

The aisles had hand painted signs to indicate what they contained. Was everything in that town hand-made? Pretty cool if it was. It was easy to become desensitized to all of the mass produced aspects of the world.

Could be inspiring to write about. Not about consumerism, no, but a book about people. Real people. Her previous novels had leaned more towards the murder-mystery genre, and honestly, she could use a little less of that in her day to day.

She could write something happy. Explore the other side of things.

Hah. If only.

Taking her knee brace up to the front counter, she was greeted by a tired looking old woman who had a smoldering cigarette balanced on the edge of a soda can. Right. That was a thing. Best to not make a fuss over it.

As she dug into her pocket for her money, she felt the slow drag of eyes over her. Someone she hadn’t met before, clearly.

“Tourist?” The cashier’s voice was like gravel; a quick glance revealed a pale scar at the base of her throat.

“No ma’am, I’m here to stay. At least for a while.”

“Huh. Where’s about?”

Geez, were all locals so suspicious? “Shed behind Min’s bar. I’m the new waitress.”

The cashier eyed her again, taking her money slowly, like she expected it to burst into flame. “I go to Min’s for dinner every night after work. I’ll see you there.”

“Yes ma’am, you will.” Putting on her best customer service smile, Sep took her change and her brace.

Soon enough, she’d just be another local. She’d know everyone by name, could stop to chat with anyone she passed. Something she had never done back in California. She’d known her editor. Her agent. Kind of the lady who made coffee down at the local café. No one else.

Dammit, she wanted to make some friends. She was too young to be a spinster.

Outside the pharmacy, she hugged her newly acquired knee brace to her chest. It would be smart to put it on immediately, get used to it before she started work. Would be nice to have a place to sit down first, though.

A bus stop down the way caught her eye. Huh. Well, was it a bus stop? Did a place like Cadeau even have a bus? Seemed winding and small enough that most people would just walk where they needed to go in town. Probably wasn’t much going on outside of town anyhow. Besides the standard that she had personally grown accustomed to.

Fuck. Time would help her forget. Time helped all things. She’d forget the slide of meat down her throat, the feel of cold inside of her, the…no. Don’t think about it. Just focus on other things. Work, home, forming new bonds.

Make a change, be a new person. It wasn’t often that people got another chance to change, to be new. To make other choices. To form relationships and be happy. God, she just wanted to be happy.

Thumping down onto the bench, she tugged at the box, slipping the brace out. Right. Okay. She could figure that out. Even if her knee joint was so swollen she wasn’t entirely certain it would fit in between the brace supports. It was fine. It was fine. She was fine.

No point in trying to put it on under her pants. Min had been nice enough to give her an old pair of her workout leggings. Turned out that Min’s muscle equaled Sep’s fat, so they were pretty close to the same size. Nice of Min. 

Charity case at its best. It’d take a while before she could repay her, but she’d have to.

Oh, okay, her knee was a bit more twisted than she thought it was. Trying to put the brace on made it abundantly clear that her leg was twisted and contorted.

Fucking Black McGrath and his fucking-

Whatever.

Sighing heavily, she set the brace beside her again. Had to get her leg positioned right first. So. Gripping her calf with both hands, she exhaled sharply. It was going to hurt. She knew that. So. Puff, puff, puff, and twist.

A shriek tore out of her throat, her hands slapping up from her calf to her knee. Fuck. Fucking fuck. Fuck her joint was absolutely fucked and it fucking hurt, holy fuck, fuck Black, fuck all of that. Hunching over her knee, she wheezed, gripping her knee like it would make the fiery throbbing pain stop.

Okay. Well. Her leg was shaking a little, but it was still in the right angle. So. Might as well get that brace on. Okay. Slapping beside her, she managed to get it in hand. Okay. It would fit now. Excellent. Totally worth it.

Fucking Black fucking McGrath.

Fuck.

Last piece of Velcro in place, she sighed, carefully moving her leg forward and back. That was alright. That was fine. She should probably keep that brace on as much as possible. Retrain her leg to work properly like a human fucking leg.

Lifting her head, she had to deal with the fact that there was a man standing awkwardly on the other side, staring at her.

Oops.

“I’m okay! I’m okay. Sorry.” Giving an awkward little wave, she hoisted herself to her feet. Ow. That was sore. Okay. She had to get to work. Picking up her garbage, she started walking back down the street.

The brace did help. With the brace distributing her weight past her knee, she just had to focus on moving her leg forward and back, doing the usual walking motion. That would make work so much better. First day of work. At a bar. That Black might show up at.

Shuddering, she just kept walking. She’d already seen him once. He’d been outside of Ruby’s. Hell, maybe he and Ruby had already met up. Maybe she was a new victim. Maybe they were dating.

Hah. What a thought. Black actually dating someone. A smile tugged at her lips. Going out to dinner, going home, fucking.

Stop thinking about him. Stop it. He wasn’t worth her time.

Besides, she had to focus on work. Making it to the bar was an achievement in itself. Making inside the building was even better.

Min was briskly wiping down the bar, humming along with the stereo in the corner of the bar. It played some kind of country music, which was probably going to be the standard there. That was fine. She liked country music well enough.

Still, Min perked up when she noticed her, putting on her bright, glinting smile. “Well hello there, Sep! Ready for your first day?”

“I suppose so!” She laughed weakly, coming up to the bar. “I’m a bit nervous, honestly. I’ve never been a waitress before.”

“Oh, you’ll do fine. It’ll be easy. Our patrons are just the tired sort that want a cold beer and a warm meal. Easy.” Flopping the towel over her shoulder, Min planted her hands on her hips. “Now, just know you’ll get hit on. A lot.”

“Oh, that’s nothing new. I worked retail before.”

Min laughed, tossing her head back. Wholly unnecessary, but the enthusiasm was appreciated. “Fair enough! Okay then, so you’re prepared. Just know that you are welcome to bop people in the head if they go and touch your ass. No grabby here.”

“Good to know.” Wiping her hands dry on her hips, she wandered up to the bar. “I’ll probably need a notepad to write down people’s orders at first. I’ll get better at remembering things later, but for now…”

“Hey, no problem. I’ll get you a little one. We typically run four or five menu items a day, so its not like people have a lot to choose from beyond alcohol.” Min bent down to start searching through whatever storage she had under the bar. “People will just like your cute face and that’ll win you some tips.”

Such confidence. “You sure I shouldn’t split my tips with you?”

“Positive. I make more than enough with the bar. You keep your pocket change.” She didn’t straighten back up, instead just slapping the pad on the bar in front of her. “So how’s the shed treating you?”

“Oh, just wonderful.” It honestly was. “I’ve always wanted a loft. It’s a bit hard to get up and down the ladder, but I’ll get used to it.”

“Good, it makes me happy to hear that. Got a kitchen set up yet?”

“Not yet.” Folding her arms, she leaned on the bar, just watching Min rustle around under the bar. “Got my bed, which is the most important thing, you know.”

“Oh yes, of course.” Min popped back up, huffing. “I thought I had a pen back here. Hm. Anyways. Do you need a TV? I think ol’ Graves has one he’s been trying to get rid of.”

“Min, seriously,” Sep sighed, flicking her hand. “Thank you for all of your hospitality, but you don’t have to fuss over me so much. Really. I’m okay.”

“Mmhm. And you’ll pardon me for saying bullshit.” Resting her chin on her hand, Min’s surprisingly perfect brows lifted. “You attempted something awful, and I think you need a friend right now. You’re just lucky that I like to meddle.”

Right. Fair enough. At that point, all she could do was shrug.

“Right. So. I’ll fuss as much as I damn well please. Now wait here while I get you a pen and a tray.”

Can’t argue that. Turning away from the bar, Sep just leaned against it, looking over the space. It was going to be her stomping grounds, after all. She had to be used to it. The stage, the open dance floor, all of it. Huh.

“Hey Min?”

“Mmhm?” The tray clicked down beside her. “What’s up?”

“Do you have live music here often?”

“Oh, most weekends. Got some locals that are pretty good at playing and usually swing by to perform for tips and a free meal.” Min twirled the pen on her fingertips, shrugging. “We’re a bit busier then, but not by much.”

“Huh. Gotcha.”

Min ran through a few more tips about how the night would go, and as she spoke, a few people started to filter in. And as they came, anxiety climbed up the back of Sep’s neck. She wanted to do well. New start, new life. She wanted to be good at something since she had lost what she had been.

With an encouraging nod from Min, she clutched her pad and pen to her chest, hobbling her way over.

Sitting at a booth were a few tired looking men, scruffy and dirty. Still, it was a bit hard to smile when they all looked at her. Be a good person. Yes.

“Hello,” she managed to say, bringing her notepad to bear. “What can I bring you folks?”

“Well, you’re a new face,” one of them sighed, tapping his hat back. “What’s your name?”

“Sep, sir. I’m the new waitress.”

“Sep! I remember you!” One of the others slapped his hand down on the table. “You came up to Black at the fish supply. God, that was…ages ago, right? You had this cute little sundress. I remember you.”

Oh. She put on a strained smile. Right. “Me and Black broke up. So. Rather not. Talk about that. Please.”

“Yeah, shut the fuck up, Bennett.” One swatted at him, then turned to her. “I’d like a Lone Star and a bowl of whatever soup Min’s made tonight.”

Alright, moving on. It’d be a while before everything got sorted out, but okay. She was tough. She could handle being ‘Black’s Ex’ for a while. It had been a bed she’d made for herself, way back when. Especially since Black was well known for not dating people. But it was a problem she could handle. It was fine.

The flow of customers was a slow build, thankfully. By the time the next few people came in, she would have already given the previous their food and had them settled. She wouldn’t be that lucky every time, of course, but it was a good way to get started.

Her customers were generally pretty friendly. They asked her her name, or they greeted her if she had met them before. She didn’t remember all of them, but she had been twisted up pretty good for a while. Faces had blurred, and all she knew was-

Stop.

Rolling her eyes at herself, she just set about her work. Limping to and from the bar to the tables, she did her best to keep up on it all. There was some stumbling and tripping, but next thing she knew, she set her tray down on the bar to the echoing silence of an empty restaurant. The lack of general laughter and conversation was honestly so confusing that she blinked dumbly at Min, trying to process the whole thing.

Min blinked, pausing in her counting. Counting the money. Like people did at the end of the day. “You alright, Sep?”

“Is…is that it?” Drumming her fingers on the counter, she peered around the bar. Huh. It really was empty. “What time is it? Are we done?”

Min laughed, resuming shuffling through the bills. “It’s one thirty, babe. We’re all done.”

Babe? Well, alright then. Still, Sep hummed, standing awkwardly at the bar. “Is…is there anything else to do?”

“So eager to keep working? Aren’t you tired?”

“I mean yeah, but I’m tired all the time. So. Kind of hard to tell what’s going on that’s any kind of different.” Sure, her knee ached, but that was pretty standard. Her head hurt, but she wasn’t leaking fluids like before. “Sure there isn’t anything else I can do?”

“No need to be an over achiever there, Sep. You’re all done.” Min tapped the bills into place, sliding an alligator clip around it. “Lenny will come out and do the mopping.”

Lenny? Uh. “Who’s Lenny?”

“The cook, Sep. He’s the cook. You are too damn exhausted to keep working. Go on home, sweetheart. We’ve got it from here. Stop by Lenny in the back to get your dinner. We should have a plate dished up and waiting.”

Huh. Okay. Pushing away from the bar, Sep blinked dumbly around at the empty room. That was her day of work, huh? She could handle that. She hadn’t even realized how fast time had been passing. That was a good sign, right? Meant work wouldn’t be a drag. Okay.

“Oh. Yeah. By the way.” Just as she made it around to the other side, Min slid over, offering some cash. “Your tips. Cat collected them up for you.” There was a pause, Min’s brow lifting. “She busses tables. Geezus Sep, you got blinders on? Other people work here you know.”

Yeah, she was sure that they did. All she could do was smile and shrug, taking her tips and shuffling on back into the kitchen. Just as Min had said, there was a man back there, scrubbing a counter. Without a word, he pointed to a Tupperware, giving her a cordial nod. Alright then.

She didn’t question it, just taking the Tupperware and continuing her path out the back door, into the cold night air.

It was different. Nice. She actually found a bit of a smile on her lips as she hobbled through the back field to her shed. She worked, was busy, made some money, had some food…there was something to be proud about. A good start to a reset of her life.

Take the good bits. There would be parts. Black would come in. She’d see him, and she’d have to deal with whatever emotions that would bring up. Because it wouldn’t go well. But in the meantime, she could be happy.

That was a thought as she let herself into her shed. Black would see her again. He would try to kill her again. That was the only reason he would have brought her to Ruby. All of it was a setup to kill her the way that he wanted. Her end would inevitably come at his hands, and until then, she could enjoy what time she had.

She could enjoy sitting on her lumpy couch, eating leftover clam strips as she zoned out at the wall where a TV would go when she got one. She should shower or take a bath, but she suddenly realized how sore and tired she was the moment she had a chance to sit down.

Aching bones, aching joints. She was so old. And tired. Geezus.

When she finally did manage to haul herself up into her loft, it was like climbing the tallest mountain. Getting her clothes off, taking off her knee brace, all of it lead up to flopping into her blankets, melting into her pillows.

Investing in a good bed was the best thing ever. That was something she could get behind.

Tucking an arm under her pillow, she rolled her heavy eyes to the little window above her head. The moonlight shone down on the field in front of her shed, giving it a weird sort of mystical air. If only there was such a thing as magic. Maybe magic could fix her head. That was the biggest problem.

Well, if time was any indicator, she’d dream of murder that night. The only question was if it was going to be hers, or someone else’s.

Of course she dreamt of Black. The human mind had a tendency to provide images during sleep that people tried to avoid. In her attempts to not think of Black, of course she would end up thinking about him every single moment of every single day. Or, at least, at night when she couldn’t fight it.

But it wasn’t always just him. Sometimes it was darker things. Sometimes it was running. Not her running, but running nevertheless. Someone running through the woods, like she had. Someone breathing hard, heart pounding, terror choking sobs in their throat. And they always ended up getting killed. Sometimes by hands around their throat, something by a knife slid up into their guts, and sometimes by a car slamming into their back as they tried to flee. Her dreams liked to focus on their screams, the way they looked when they lost their lives.

Usually it was Black doing the killing, that light in his eyes, that pure, animalistic glee of taking a life. That was to be expected.

But sometimes, sometimes.

It was her.

Sometimes she was the one stabbing into someone’s soft flesh, sometimes it was her slowly accelerating the truck to slam into soft bodies and snapping bones. Sometimes it was her laughing, eyes wide and wild as she watched life fade, ripped away by her hand.

Those were the worst nights. That was when she would jerk awake, gasping, searching for something that would make those thoughts go away. Therapy would help, but what could she do? Could she really find someone to talk to? There was doctor-patient confidentiality, but they had to talk when there was crime involved. If she talked about everything, if she revealed Black, then-

Then what? They’d arrest him? Investigate things?

And she’d already defended him once before. Even with her broken brain remembering to hate him for all that he had done, she couldn’t…she couldn’t stand the thought of him being thrown away.

He was an animal. Despite everything he had done, he was an animal that…deserved to be free.

Fucking hell.

Even in her sleep, she…she didn’t want him to stop. She knew what he did. She knew how horrible he was, his violence, his hunger, but she couldn’t bear to stop him. Or rather, she was too weak to stop it on her own. If someone else wanted to do it, that’d be fine. Nevermind that that made her at least partially responsible for all the people he killed while she was aware of his actions.

She was responsible for all kinds of horrible things. Might as well add a few more things to her list of mistakes.

That night she dreamt of Black strangling her. That was a pretty normal one too.

At least that one kept her as a victim.

When she woke, there was no rest in her eyes. Active dreams. Thrashing, gagging, trying to survive. She could only sigh, staring at the wall of her loft. Someday she’d be normal again. She could keep repeating that over and over in her head until she believed it.

Her bones ached when she sat up. She could feel years of suffering. Too old, too tired. There would never be peace. She shouldn’t have stayed in Cadeau. But there she was. Sitting, staring at nothing, her thoughts a swirl of-

Fuck.

Pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes didn’t seem to make the images go away. It would never stop, would it? He was etched into the soft tissue.

Shoving the blankets off of her, she dragged her brace over. Maybe in time, her leg would heal enough that she wouldn’t need it anymore. A pipedream, but one that was worth having. Being whole again.

Never going to happen.

Laughing softly, she cinched the last bit of Velcro tight. Broken, forever and always. Till death would she part.

Oh, she was hungry. Might as well swing by the bar for something to eat. Her tips should be able to cover some kind of breakfast, right? If they’d let her pay.

Getting dressed felt like being under water. Depression? Probably. Hard not to be depressed. Her life was all wrapped up around- no point in repeating it. Insanity and all that business.

Stepping onto her front porch, she just…breathed. She had control over that. For now.

Her hand went to her throat. She could deny being suicidal all she wanted. Her end would come soon. She would…she didn’t know. When the time came, when he came for her, maybe she’d fight. Maybe she’d accept it. Hard to tell. Never knew how one would react until you were in that situation. And until he came for her, until he tried to kill her, she could pretend that she would do one thing or the other.

Hard to tell. But there she was, and there she would remain.


	3. Fantasies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sep learns some things about herself. No one can really say what they'll do until they're actually in the situation that they imagine. And when Sep is backed into a corner, she surprises even herself.

Routines. Once she had to deal with a chain collar and cleaning, and now…

Now she had her life back.

Kind of. She had a new life. She kept telling herself, repeating to herself. Reforming, becoming new, all of that. Changing from one to the other, she just had to keep telling herself that it was a good thing. It was good that she was alive. Every person had some value in the world.

Yes, even him.

Humming softly, she tapped her chopsticks like drumsticks on the side of her rice cooker, waiting for the last bit of the timer to tick down. Was it the best breakfast in the world? No. But she had been on an egg-on-rice kick for the past week or so. Tamago gojan? Gohan? That was it. Tamago gohan. She had her fixings ready to go, all she needed to do was wait.

Food was a good focus. It was connected to her old life. Funny how she didn’t acknowledge her life before Black came into it, but hey, rebirth, and all that nonsense. But besides that, her main focus in her life with him had been cooking. Might as well reclaim that and cook for herself.

Her rice cooker trilled, so she twirled a chopstick, using the tip of it to stab the release button. The lid slung open, flinging droplets of starch-laden water against the wall. She could wipe that off later.

For now, she slipped on an oven mitt, lifting the cooker insert out so she could dump the steaming rice into her waiting bowl. Setting the insert aside, she shook the oven mitt off to let it fall where it wanted just so she could grab up the waiting bowl of pre-cracked eggs. Dumping those over the rice, she started to briskly stir the whole mess together, letting the bowl wobble and stir with it. Then she picked up her soy sauce bottle, she poured in a perfect amount, continuing to stir. Then sesame seeds, then chopped scallions, and then it was perfect.

Well, almost.

Drawing her chopsticks out, she used them to carefully transfer the slices of fried chicken into the rice, courtesy of Lenny.

There. That was a perfect breakfast. One to be proud of.

She’d definitely gained all her weight back, and then some. An achievement at first, but then it had become a bit concerning. Still, she wasn’t about to argue it. Eating regularly, eating what Lenny provided, all of it was good. The only thing that stopped her from being depressed about it was the absolute confidence that she wasn’t unhealthy. Her work was hard, dammit. She sweat, she strained, and she went home sore every single night that she worked. And on her days off, she went for walks around town.

Had to get her knee working again. It was already doing better, even if it was awful bulgy still. When at home, she tried to keep the brace off. Just to get used to it. Couldn’t rely on it the rest of her life. Or she could. Who cared?

Heading out onto the porch, she sank into the old chair. It had been rather repulsive at first, but with an old sheet thrown over it, it was fine. It was soft enough, and provided the perfect spot to enjoy the mornings and eat her breakfast.

The field in front of her shed was peaceful, if a bit empty. Off to the left, she could see what had been an old washing machine, the guts hollowed out and empty. Pretty sure there was a possum that lived underneath it.

Oh, Suzy. She wondered if Black had eaten her yet.

From there, she could hear the bar waking up. Lenny seemed to live in the bar. Min mentioned something about a loft there too. Lenny always got up early, prepping for the day. He’d whip up a small bit of breakfast for early risers, and then turn on the radio and hoot and holler.

Usual noise. At first it had been disruptive, but now it didn’t seem right when she didn’t hear it. Which usually meant it was Sunday. They were closed on Sundays. Everywhere was closed on Sundays. The joy of the good old South.

She needed a hobby. Something like that. But what?

She had liked to read. Maybe she could try that? They did have a library in town. Or sewing. She’d done a lot of that. The amount of holes in Black’s clothes was honestly quite astounding. But no, sew for fun. Make some new clothes for herself. She could use some new clothes. Surely there was a fabric store somewhere too. She needed to get out more.

And run the risk of-

Whatever. She’d see him soon enough.

Tapping her chopsticks on her lip, she glanced at the bar again. Hobbies. She could try painting. She used to do that, years ago. Years and years. Something to fill the time. Hobbies were good mental stimulation, at the very least.

Could do with some physical stimulation.

Alright, now she was being ridiculous. She needed sex like she needed a kick in the head. It wouldn’t solve any of her problems; it might even make more. While Black hadn’t been her first or only sexual partner, he had been…well, her best. Ignoring some of the things they did, she’d struggle to find anyone that satisfied her half as well as he did. And even beyond that, it would most likely make her remember him even more. Despite everything, she really was trying to stop thinking about him.

Time would help. Time healed all wounds. Though some wounds took more time than others, but she had no room to be picky.

Upending her bowl, she scooped the last few grains of rice into her mouth. A good meal to start the day. She would need plenty of energy at work that evening. Min said a band would be playing, and that always meant more customers. Which meant more tips, which was good.

Food service typically was not a great career to pursue, but in a town like Cadeau? It suited her just fine. Her coworkers were great, the customers were nice, all of it was just…good. Not a place to stay forever, but a good place for now.

Heading back inside, she dropped her dishes into the tub by her mini fridge. When she got enough energy, she’d warn them in the bath tub. Or she could haul them to the bar and ask Lenny to do it for her, but she wasn’t that lazy.

Usually.

Well, she had time to kill. Work wasn’t for a few hours, and she couldn’t just sit in front of the YV, lest she get too sleepy to actually go to work after.

Best she just go for a walk. Slowly but surely, she was learning the town and all its bounties. And weird little shops.

So different from California. At least, the parts of California that she had known. So many strange nooks and crannies in the world, so much to discover if she had the time.

Besides a hobby, she had started to take notes of things. Nothing important, but perhaps possible ideas for a novel she may try to write someday.

There was always someday. Who knew what the future would bring? She just had to keep moving forwards, and hope for the best.

Suiting up for the day, she locked up her shed and headed for the back of the bar. As far as she could tell, the only way to get to and from her shed was through the bar. Though someone could probably jump the haggard looking fence, it would most likely bring the whole thing down. Made everything feel a little safer, even if it was just an illusion. If someone wanted to get to her, they’d find a way.

Lenny was humming some kind of tune as she passed through the kitchen, waving his wooden spoon like a baton. It had become clear that he marched to his own beat, so to speak. He still had yet to say a word to her, though she was under the impression that he just didn’t talk. Sang, sure, but not talk. That suited her just fine; she wasn’t very good at talking either.

Min wasn’t up front when she headed out which was fine. She’d see plenty of her later. Still, it was always nice to see her.

Sep made sure to close the heavy door on her way out. With any luck, it would already be propped open on her return. Damn door was too goddamn heavy. But for now, she could just walk. All she needed to do was pick a direction.

The sidewalks weren’t great, so she just walked on the edge of the road, eyeing the storefronts as she passed. A good amount of them were empty, gaping mouths of failed industry. It seemed as though chain stores didn’t find any footing in Cadeau. A welcome sight. She could do with fewer McDonalds.

There was a little thrift store. That would be good for when she wanted to buy more clothes. Which she should do that. She didn’t exactly have much to work with. She could only survive on so many yoga pants and big t-shirts. Then there was a kitchen supply store, which was honestly a little surprising. And past that, there was a taxidermy shop.

Huh. Figured. She slowed in her limp, looking up at the sign.

Grave’s Taxidermy: Stiff with Stuff.

Well alright then. Gross. She still had plenty of time to spare, and she had never been inside of a taxidermy shop. Could be worth a look. It’d probably upset her a little, but she was an adult. She could handle being a little upset.

There was a unique sort of scent inside of the shop. A bit like death, a bit like chemicals, and a bit like dust. It was dim, a little dark, feeling enclosed. A few animals lined the walls, all posed in dramatic action shots. There, an owl posed mid strike, wings spread wide, legs extended to scoop up a fleeing mouse. In the corner, a coyote slunk through fake grass, eyes searching for unseen prey.

All of it was shockingly lifelike, really. The skill there was wonderful, even if it was macabre. Her fingers ached to touch, but she resisted the urge. Oils probably wouldn’t help it last as long.

She felt the presence first. Maybe it was a shift in the air, but she twisted around, paranoia taking her, clenching her throat, it was him, it had to be him, no please please-

“Whoa, sorry,” the big not-Black man gasped, putting his hands up. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Definitely not Black. Not as tall, not as tan, not as blond. A stockier sort, with greying hair and a twisted scar tugging up the edge of his lips, giving him a smirk he couldn’t stop. And even more remarkable was the massive, ropey scar across his throat. Something had tried to kill him, that was for sure.

“Sorry, my fault,” she sighed, pressing a hand to her chest. “I’m a bit jumpy. I-”

“Sep. You’re Sep, right?”

Oh no. That fear was back, and she stepped back, almost bumping into a table. “How do you know me?”

“Ah, I just…” The big man shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Black mentioned you.”

Fuck. She backpedaled again, that time tripping over something, falling a bit. Get away, go, go away-

“Hey now, whoa, sorry, I don’t mean-” He crouched down, putting up his hands. “He’s not here. You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

“Why would he mention me?” She hissed, spittle flying form her lips. She was panicking. Yeah. Great. “After…after everything, why would he-”

The man smiled, a wry sort of thing even more contorted by his scars. “Yeah, I knew he wasn’t fit for a relationship. I don’t know what he did, or what you did, or any of that, but I am sorry to have upset you. Black is…a strange man. He keep sleeping around? Cheat on you?”

Right. Everyone in town was ignorant. No one knew. Or they did know and didn’t know if she knew. Stop panicking. Laughing softly, she pressed her fingertips to her eyes, focusing on her breathing. She needed to calm down. She’d run in to him eventually. She couldn’t freak out like that every time.

“Something like that,” she murmured, dropping her hands. “Sorry. He…we had a rough time. I tried to kill myself.”

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry. What an asshole.” The man cooed sympathetically, ducking his head a bit. “I’m Cooper. Nice to meet you, Sep.”

Cooper. She could handle Cooper.

“Why don’t we get you out of there? I promise, I’m just an idiot with no tact.”

And she just overreacted. She was fine. Black wasn’t there. He wouldn’t be so stupid as to tell people about what had happened. He survived in that town that long, doing those things that he did. No one knew. It was enough to just tell people that she had been depressed about their relationship and tried to kill herself. Good enough details.

With his help, she managed to squeeze out from where she had fallen. Cooper started to dust her off before he remembered himself, mumbling out an apology and putting his hands up.

Strange man. A bit bumbling, but nice. She could handle nice.

“Let’s start over, mm?” Dropping his hands, he offered one out. “Cooper Graves, pleasure to meet you.”

“September Mendax, I-” She started to reach for his hand, only to gasp when she actually looked for it. Rude. She knew it was rude, but she couldn’t help it. There was only so much decency she could keep when she was startled by a prosthetic arm that looked like it was made from actual bones.

“Mm? Oh! Yeah, don’t mind that.” He jiggled his wrist, his metal hand. “Bit of an accident some years back.”

Yeah, sure. With the scars and the missing arm, she wondered if there was more to the man than she thought. Not that it was any of her business. Nothing about anything was any of her business.

“Sorry. Yeah, September. Sep. Whatever.”

“Well, welcome to my shop.” He crossed his burly arms over his chest, smirking for real that time. “Grave’s Taxidermy. Got any need to preserve some animals?”

“Oh, no. I’m new to town- well, new-ish in town and I’m just trying to learn what stuff is here. I may have been with Black for a while, but I didn’t exactly leave his house much. I was just curious about what a taxidermy shop was like.” And part of her regretted the curiosity. Cooper was nice, but…

But she’d just like to be separate from Black entirely. Heal from him, forget him, so much of it just…If she had truly wanted that, she would not have stayed in Cadeau. So she was trying to fool herself, but that was never going to work. She was stupid, but she wasn’t a moron. She was going to find herself wrapped up in him for a long time.

“You’re welcome to come by whenever you like, Sep. I’d be happy to give you a tour of the whole shop whenever you like. I can’t say it won’t be disgusting, but it’ll take some of the mystery out of things.” He laughed weakly, rubbing the back of his neck again. Awkward, nerves, something. “Plus it’ll give me a chance to make up for scaring you.”

Southern hospitality. “Sure,” she squeaked, shrugging crookedly. Simmering nervousness, suspicion, the works. “I’d like that. I have to go to work now, but maybe soon?”

“Whenever.”

What a pleasantly awkward old man. He really did seem to make an honest mistake, but that was alright. She was just sensitive. Sensitive. Hah. Recovering. Broken mind, all that. Still had a bit of a hole in it. Who could blame her? But she smiled, waved, and hurried out of there as fast as she could.

She could tell herself that she was doing better all she liked. There would always be those relapses, those moments of absolute fear and stupidity. Stupidity? Survival. She would be an idiot to not have been affected by all that. Of course she’d react like that when presented with potential danger again. And she could call it a potential all she wanted, but it was a reality. It was the crushing reality of what she had become.

She just needed to focus on her job, on her work. That would give her something solid to hold on to when he inevitably came for her. Witnesses, people who would miss her, potential…

He would come for her. It was just who he was. That was why he had-

Stop. Stop!

Making it back to the bar was a little bit of what she needed. A safe place, with people that she needed to keep an eye on her. So she didn’t do anything stupid, or didn’t let stupid things happen to her, or something. She needed a chaperone, needed-

A swift kick to the head.

Thankfully, the door was already propped open, and considering she hadn’t been out for all that long, she was damn lucky. Fucking heavy door. And that time, Min was at the bar, inspecting her steins, checking for chips or cracks. Always working, always there.

Which brought things to mind.

“Min?” Sep limped up to the bar, leaning heavily on the worn wood. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, babe. What’s on your mind?” She didn’t stop in her work, but she did reach under the bar to grab a bottled soda, setting it down in front of Sep.

Very nice. Taking a moment to open the soda, she watched the bubbles rise through the green liquid. “Do you have a romantic partner?”

Min smiled, tugging a rag from her belt to wipe down the stein in her hand. Her head tilted to the side, her braid slipping over her shoulder. “Romantic partner. You really are from California.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No no, just funny. You can always tell.” Sniffing, she gave her a moment’s glance. “Nah, I don’t. Too busy.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” The soda felt so good sliding down her throat, cool and surprisingly refreshing. She smacked her lips, gripping the neck of the bottle loosely so she could roll the bottom edge of the glass along the bar. “You’re always here, but Lenny lives here. Do you sleep behind the bar?”

Min snorted, racking the steins. “Don’t think I haven’t more than once. But no, I just come down early. Always work to be done, and I am happy to do it. I love this place. I wanted a bar for so long, and when I finally did get it, I didn’t want to spend a moment away from it. Still don’t. I love it here.”

Passion. That was something she needed. She’d find it, sure, but-

“Should I be concerned that you’re asking me this all of a sudden?” How Min managed to waggle both brows like that, she would never know. “You hitting on me, little lady?”

Sep couldn’t help the snort, shrugging. “Pretty sure I’m not your type.”

“And what type is that?”

Absolutely broken? Fucked up? Damaged? “Not completely sane.” That was a good option.

“Babe, you are not insane for attempting to take your own life.” Slapping down the rag, Min hunched low, pointing a harsh finger at her. She was wearing glittery blue nail polish. “That’s on him, not you. Whatever happened, whatever he did, that puts him as the one of blame, not you. You are not crazy for trying to shoot yourself. You are a victim.”

Was she? She didn’t feel like it most of the time. Her eyes dropped to the bar. It was too hard to look at Min.

“Black did something terrible to you. I can see that. You have done nothing wrong. He is to blame, not you.”

“I could have stopped it. I left once. And I went back. I went back to him. I knew it was wrong, but I…” Exhaling shakily, she pressed a hand over her eyes. “I went back. I couldn’t help myself. All I wanted was…”

“Sep, sweetheart-” Apparently walking around the bar would take too long, as Min just hoisted herself upwards, fairly leaping over the bar to get to her side. Slinging thick arms around her, Min cradled Sep to her chest, cooing, rocking her. “You’re okay. You’re safe here. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

She didn’t even know the half of it. She didn’t know what Black had done, didn’t know- But she didn’t have to know. She cared anyways. She just wanted her to be happy anyways. Min was a much better person than her in so many ways.

But all Sep could do was lean there, shuddering, waiting for something. Tears. Something. But nothing came.

“I think about him. All the time,” she murmured, squeaking when she was so suddenly jerked back, strong hands on her shoulders.

Another glare, intense and weirdly glittery. Blue eyeliner? “And that’s not your fault. But he’s bad for you, clearly. If he made you do this. This.” She reached up, tapping where the bandages had been. “Then he’s awful. And I won’t let him get anywhere near you. Okay?”

Sep laughed weakly, nodding a little. “Right. Okay. Thank you.”

“Anytime. Now go rest a little. Work starts in an hour, and I want you in full form. We will be very busy tonight, what with the band, and all that. Lots of customers, and lots of tips. So shoo. Go on. Ask Lenny for something to eat on your way back if you want.”

Right. Because that was what she needed. After admitting something she had tried so hard to deny for so long, she needed rest like she needed-

Whatever.

Everything was small details. Work, rest, remembering customer orders, noticing little things on Min. The eyeliner, the glitter, all of it. All little pieces that she made herself focus on, even when it was hardly important. All she had was focus. Maybe someday it would save her life, or something, but who could say?

When work finally rolled around, she just felt tired. Not physically, but emotionally. Pretty typical. Nothing new. She got her tray and her pad, and she gave Min a smile that didn’t seem entirely convincing, hm? What with the way Min lifted a brow at her, she didn’t seem to believe that she was okay.

Because she wasn’t. She wasn’t okay. But she could do her job.

The band came in an hour after the dinner rush started. Just a bunch of guys with a bunch of instruments, guitars and banjos and drums. Bongos? Something. Just a bunch of good ol’ boys getting ready to play their music. And just as she knew they would, their presence drew in a hell of a lot more customers.

It was like a message went out among all the people in Cadeau, that there was something to do at Min’s Bar. Live music was always nice, right? She hadn’t been to a concert in a long time. In no time at all, the bar was packed, bustling with people eager to hear music. Which made her busier, made it necessary to limp to and fro, delivering drinks and food to customers.

Which meant good tips. A few of the customers even passed them off to her the moment she brought their food over. Pity, most likely. Small towns certainly had no issue with gossip. No doubt most of the people there had heard about her.

“Sep! Order up on Ben’s table!” Min shouted from the bar, lifting a burly arm to wave her down. “Come get it while it’s hot!”

A good night, surprisingly. The music was playing, jaunty country songs that had people stomping their boots and clapping along if they weren’t too busy eating or drinking. Good energy, and her knee didn’t hurt that much yet. The brace deserved a good amount of credit for that.

“Coming, Min!” She called, hugging her empty tray to her chest. She needed to do some artful weaving past customers to get to the food, and it would take even more work to get back through once laden with food.

Sweeping past the bar should have been easy. It would have been easy if not for the arm that swept around her waist, catching her mid-dash. It took the air out of her lungs, mostly in how sudden it was.

Right, she was allowed to slap people who got grabby. Min said she could. Sighing softly, she turned, putting on her best customer service smile to the grabby customer so she could tell him to fuck off.

His eyes weren’t even focused on her. They were locked on the band, like they were the most fascinating thing in the world. Lifting a frosty bottle of beer to his lips, he took a drink, his throat rippling, pushing a bead of sweat to slide through the dirt that clung to his skin.

Black McGrath, with his arm around her waist.

Oh. Oh he was right there. He was there, and he was holding on to her. He was just as big as she remembered. It’d been weeks. Weeks! Since she’d seen him! And even then, it had been at a distance! And he was there, and he stank just as bad as before.

He blinked slowly, tiredly, his head turning before his eyes even did. And when those amber gold eyes landed on her, she felt cold from head to toe, like everything inside of her decided it was time to go immediately. She surely gaped like a fish, and he just looked at her and just- just-

“Cher,” he rumbled, setting his beer down on the bar. Just one word in that voice that she would never be able to forget. It was woven into her very DNA, sewn down, forever entwined in such a way that she would never be able to get free.

Well.

That just wouldn’t do at all.

A sound a lot like ‘h-nuh-wuh’ left her lips as she jerked the tray upwards, slamming the edge of it into his chin as hard as she could. His head snapped back, his jaw clicked audibly, and his arm dropped away from her waist just enough that she could lunge away.

That was the extent of her knowledge about the whole situation as she bolted as best as she could to the other side of the bar. To safety. To something. Holy shit she’d actually hit Black McGrath in the face.

A hand caught her waist again, and her first instinct was to whirl and slap with her tray. It would have made a successful impact if he didn’t catch it, stopping it mid swing. Fuck, he was huge, and he was there, and he was holding her and she was panicking and-

“Sep, are you- McGrath!” Min’s hand flashed into view, grabbing his wrist, yanking his hand away from Sep’s tray and slapping it into the bar.

Which left him open. Sep finished her swing, clubbing him with her tray once more. That time, the flat side caught the bridge of his nose, and she felt a crunch. Shit, Uh. She. Uh.

“Don’t you lay a hand on my waitress, McGrath. She’s a good one.”

Black burbled out some curse words that sounded suspiciously like French, yanking his arm from around Sep so he could cup his palm over the blood that spilled from his nose.

Oh god. She’d hit him. She’d made him bleed. She’d never really done that before. Well, earlier, she used a gun to help but that time was different. She’d hit him and he- He was bleeding. She’d made him bleed. He could bleed. She could hurt him. She could-

“I have to go I’m so sorry Min maybe Cat can be waitress okay bye-” She babbled, flinging the tray down onto the bar as she bolted past the whole mess. She might have shoved a few people out of the way in her mad dash, but that was okay. She was lunging through the kitchen before she knew what she was doing.

She was at work, dammit. She was risking so much but she couldn’t stand to be there for even a moment longer. Air. She needed air. She-

Stumbling onto her porch, she wheezed, gasped, slapping wildly at her handle. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t- she-

She had never been more turned on in her entire life.

It was something so small, so inconsequential, but she had hit Black McGrath and made him bleed. She had hurt the man that had done such horrible things to her. It was possible. It was possible to hurt him. Not that she would be able to do it again, but it was something to hold on to.

Geezus. She fell into her shed, actually tumbling to the floor before she managed to twist and kick the door shut. She’d never been so riled up, needed something so bad. It was a struggle not to keen terribly, shoving at her stupid yoga pants to get them down.

She was so fucked up. There was so much proof to convince anyone of that, not that it would take much to convince anyone who walked in on her.

Black flooded her head as she worked her fingers into herself. Black, beautiful Black, teeth bared in curses as blood slipped down his face. Blood that she had spilled. Black, bleeding, hurt, hurt because of her, oh fuck.

She wanted to see that again. She wanted to see him bleed.

She wanted to see him die.


	4. Songbird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sep is offered a new business opportunity. Why not take it when reworking her life entirely? Why not realize that she's still broken and will likely never heal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy this virus thing is...hahaaaaa its rough. I work at an "essential" business so its been...wow its been rough. People not taking this seriously, flooding to our store because they're bored. And besides that, I've been making masks for coworkers and friends and its just a lot. Good thing I have Sep to vent my frustrations on, eh?

Awkward didn’t even begin to cover it. She didn’t feel awkward, but Min seemed to.

If her staring was anything to go by.

She knew it was going to happen, but okay. She also knew that if she looked up, she would see Min looking at her. She could prove it.

When she flicked her eyes up, yup, Min was side eyeing her so hard it was almost criminal. Expected. Sure. Yeah. Kind of made it hard to focus on wiping down the tables before they opened up.

“Min,” she sighed, spraying down a layer of Lysol onto the dinged table she was currently hunched over. “If you want to say something, please just say it.”

“Are you okay?” The words were explosive and kind of hard to understand, and Min must have realized it, because she sighed, setting down the beer stein she had been polishing for the past ten minutes. “I had no idea he was going to grab you. I’m so sorry about-”

Right. Sep shuddered, closing her eyes for a moment. There was too much to unpack there. “It’s okay, Min. It’s not your fault.”

“I could have at least warned you.”

Well, sure. She could have. But it worked out. She’d hit him in the face. So. Uh. That brought some things to mind.

“So. What happened after…what happened?” Not that it mattered, but part of her had expected Black to come after her. He hadn’t taken her attempts with a knife very well before, so why should he allow her to hit him in the face?

But nothing had happened. No one had come for her. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Disappointed, maybe. Relieved was more likely. In all that time she had been with Black, she felt like she had gotten to known him pretty well. His mannerisms, his routines, his mood. Then again, he had continued to surprise her, taking her to get medical help not once, but twice.

If only they could just sit down and talk like sane adults. No, he didn’t deserve any of her time. But- no.

“He started to follow you.”

Of course he did. That answered that.

“But I caught him and told him that we’d have some problems if he did.”

No. “Min, you didn’t.” Slapping down her cleaning rag, she whipping around to see Min acting like it was normal. Of course it was normal. She didn’t know what Black was capable of. She didn’t know that she could have become his next meal.

“I did.” She seemed ready to leave it at that, but with the continued staring, she huffed, finally tucking away all of the steins. “You’re a good waitress, Sep, and I like you. I don’t want a bad ex chasing you away. All I did was tell him that if he ever wanted to eat or drink here again, he’d leave you alone.”

Right. Hah. So simple. She didn’t need any details, didn’t need to know anything else. Min had witnessed a woman in distressed and stepped in. That was all that she had needed to risk herself. A long time ago, Sep might have been so heroic, so selfless.

Now, all she wanted was to stay out of the public eye.

“Thank you, Min. Really. You’re very kind to do that for me.” Without even knowing anything. Remarkable. “I hope you didn’t lose a good customer because of me.”

“And so what if I did? I don’t care otherwise? Black wasn’t keeping this place afloat, you know. Honestly, I’m glad if he doesn’t show up anymore. Tired of him using this place to pick up quick fucks.”

Well, for whatever reason, then. Sep gave Min a bright smile, and resumed her cleaning. So long as she had Min to keep an eye out for her, she’d do okay. Everything would be okay. Black would be fucking stupid to try anything against someone as well known as Min, and Min would make sure she was safe too. So it would all work out. And if it didn’t, then maybe she’d have a chance to make him bleed again.

Always the little things. As time ticked on, customers started to filter in, filling up the tables and the booths, just as they always did. The woman from the pharmacy came, took up a little private table with a bowl of the soup of the day, slipping Sep a tip early in the evening.

Everything going well. She knew what she was doing. She was good at her job, and she was around good people, and everything was fine.

For her, at least.

Hurrying up to the bar, she slapped down her tray. Ned’s order should have been ready, and while he was normally pretty patient, he seemed a bit on edge that day, so the sooner the better. And normally, the food would already be there. But it wasn’t. And it probably wasn’t because Min was standing in the middle of the bar, hands on her hips, staring at the door.

Huh. Sep followed her gaze, but saw nothing. Weird.

“Um. Min?”

Nothing. Just more staring.

“Min? Hello?”

Min huffed, and crossed her arms over her chest.

Okay. Gripping her tray again, she slapped the plastic even harder against the oiled wood. “Min!”

That did it. The bartender jumped, arms flapping upwards as she whipped around, eyes wide. Spooked, really, but with good reason.

“Yeah, hi. Ned’s order? He’s definitely going to start getting pissed at this point if he doesn’t get his food soon. So. Maybe?”

“Oh, right, sorry Sep. Give me a moment.” Casting another glance at the door, Min disappeared into the back.

That was weird. Something had her upset. And if Min would go out of her way to keep an eye on her, then she could do the same for Min. So when the bartender returned with the food, she lingered for a moment, ducking her head to meet her eye. Min had started to turn away, but stopped, blinking dumbly.

“Yeah? You need something, babe?”

Babe. Hah. “You doing okay, Min?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because you’re staring at the door all the damn time. Is something up?”

“Oh. Yeah, that.” She opened her mouth, then thought better of it, shaking her head. “Give Ned his food, then swing back, okay?”

“Sure. Yeah.” Weird, but okay. She could do that. Thankfully, Ned hadn’t gotten to the point of being mad about waiting. He was just happy to get hot food. Which was good, because if he was mad, then he’d want to yammer on about it and she did not have the time for that, not when Min was going to tell her what was going on. But he didn’t rant, so she could ge back to the bar, where Min was rolling her braid around her hand, like a girl would twirl a lock of hair around a finger.

Min glanced around, then sighed heavily. “Corny didn’t show.”

Uh. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Corny. Cornelius. You know, the guy with the blue eye?” Min tapped a finger under the eye in question. “He was supposed to come and sing with the guys today, but…ah, fuck, he’s probably passed out on his boat again.”

Right, people had names. She was so bad at that. Still, she had to turn, looking at the stage. And yeah, okay, she was dumb. The usual members of the band were already set up, but they sat there, tuning their instruments and looking lost.

Huh. Most people came to the bar to hear the live music. Crap.

“That sucks.”

“It sure does.” Min plucked up an empty bottle of beer from one of the patrons, tucked it away with the recycling tub before pulling out another full one. “I suppose the guys could just play music, but people get so pumped up with the singing.”

They did. People sang along, and danced, and bought more alcohol and tipped even better. The bar always did better when there was life and singing and all that.

“Well, maybe we could call…Corny? Or send someone out to get him?”

“No, he’ll be too out of it.”

Great. Well. She and Min just leaned on the bar, staring at the door like they expected Corny to come walking in at any moment. Not much to be done about it, but still. They’d just have to accept the loss.

Except the longer she stared at the door, the more the side of her head tingled. She could account it to the old injury, but it felt different. Less scar tissue and more like someone was staring at her, which, of could someone was.

Min was.

Sep side-eyed Min, her brow furrowing. Hm. She shouldn’t ask. She knew better, but she sighed, dropping her head for a moment. Okay. Deal with it. So she turned her head, and she put on a strained smile.

“Yes, Min?”

“Your voice isn’t bad.”

“Min.”

“And you’ve sung along with most of the songs when they’ve played before.”

“Min. No.”

“And most everyone has food already so it’s not like you’d need to wait on anyone.”

“Min!”

Min slapped her hands down on the bar, leaning closer to her. “You could totally sing.”

“I totally can’t. No. I am a waitress.”

“You are my employee. I am your employer.”

The more it was all being discussed, the more flushed and cold she felt all over. Nerves. Fight or flight, sort of thing. And she was freaking out just a little bit. She couldn’t run out of there again. She’d already done that once before.

“So. I think maybe you should go and give it a shot.”

“And why would you want me to do that? You’ve never heard me sing. I’ve never performed in front of anyone. So why, tell me, why would I want to sing in front of a bar full of drunk people?”

“Sep, babe.” Min reached across the bar towards her, but Sep took a few steps back, staying out of her reach. “Everyone here likes you. Cat’s been a waitress before and she never got tipped like you. People here will be so nice if you sing. And if anything, they’ll be happy to have anyone singing.”

“That doesn’t mean I should do it.”

“I will pay you an additional three hundred dollars for singing tonight. That’s what Corny would have gotten.”

Oh. Money. Always an excellent incentive, but she had always had issues with performing in front of people. In high school, with the dance segment of PE class, she gladly took a C than perform a dance in front of her teacher. She had always been shy.

But it was a new life. New town. And while she would be around them for a while, she had to play things off. She had to be strong. And three hundred dollars would help her get some luxury items.

“Ah! You’re thinking about it!”

“This is never going to work. I suck at singing.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’ll be doing me a huge favor.”

Fuck favors. She couldn’t believe she was even considering it. Her heart was pounding, she was sweating, all of it, fuck. She gave Min one last glare. It was never going to work, but okay.

Just…do it.

Rubbing her hands on her hips to clear away the cold sweat collecting on her palms, she shuffled towards the stage. Admittedly, the closer she got the more she saw how dejected the other guys looked. Fuck.

So she stopped by the stage, giving them an awkward smile. And they smiled at her.

“Hey, girlie,” the guitarist sighed, draping an arm over the body of his instrument. “How can we help you?”

“Corny didn’t show up?”

“Naw, of course not,” another one of the musicians grumbled. He was adjusting the knobs on a much smaller looking guitar like instrument. Mandolin? She wasn’t sure. “He loves his booze and his smokes. Probably well toasted by now.”

“Sorry about that,” the guitarist spoke again. “We can still play some music, if Min likes. I know she wanted to pay for a full band, but…”

“About that.” Fuck, she was making a huge mistake. “She wants me to try and sing.”

They perked up, at least a little. The guy with the mandolin looked a little skeptical, but the guitarist leaned closer, his bushy brows lifting.

“You ever sing before, girlie?”

“Uh. Alone, mostly. She’s insisting, and I told her no, but…I mean, feel free to turn me down. It’s not like I know any original songs or anything and I…this is a really bad idea.” She was babbling, but who could blame her? Social panic. “I look like shit and I have no idea about any of your songs.”

“We do covers too. You know anything the crowd might like?”

Shit. It might actually be happening. “Maybe? I’ve sung along with a few of your songs before…”

“Yeah?” The guitarist turned to look at the man with the mandolin. Mandoliner? Mandonlinist? “Could be nice to have a lady’s spin on some of the songs.”

“If she’s any good at singing.” Still, he shrugged. “Know any PMP?”

“Um.”

“Poor Man’s Poison.”

“Oh. Yeah. A few of them.”

“Great. We can do that.” Readying his mandolin, he nodded to the guitarist. “Shall we?”

Fuck. It was happening. Shit. Okay. She could do it. She’d done a lot worse in a very short period of time. Singing was fine. She could do singing. She flashed a smile as she was offered the microphone. Fuck.

Shuffling into place in the center of the stage, she gripped the microphone too tight. There was some shuffling behind her, but then the first few notes were strummed out, and despite her fear, she knew the song. She actually knew the song.

She kind of felt the song too. Maybe she was projecting.

Exhaling steadily, she lifted the microphone, then hesitated. No, another loop before she started. It helped to close her eyes, not think about it. Then there, there it was.

“My head’s hangin’ low, and my shoes are worn,” she sang, her voice a whispery soft shadow of what it normally was. Her brow furrowed, and she made herself sing louder. “I’ve had the blues in my soul since the day I was born.”

Okay, so it didn’t sound great, but it wasn’t horrible, was it? She knew the words, and as far as she could tell, she was keeping up with the music pretty well. It really did help to keep her eyes closed. Just focus on the words.

“The devil’s been on my back now for quite some time.” Not to put too much weight into a song, but it felt good to sing it. Her brow furrowed, and the strength came to her voice. “Yeah, it’s just been me and him, and the whispering wind and it’s time to find a little peace of mind-”

Her eyes popped open, and there were eyes on her. She could see people watching her sing, people that she had learned about over the weeks there. There were tired eyes, but there were also soft smiles as they listened. Either they found her funny, or she was kind of okay.

Both options were okay, since no one was shouting or anything. She kept singing, even finding some energy to bounce along with the more upbeat parts of the song. Was she hot? Probably not. Was she fun to listen to? Definitely not. But the patrons were listening, and no one was shouting.

When that song trailed off, her throat clenched up a bit. Was it okay? Did she do okay? It was hard to tell, with the last strums of the guitar behind her. Should she…leave? Should she stop? What more was she supposed to do? Should she-

A beer clunked down on a table, and a patron clapped his hands together quite loudly. Maybe a bit louder than perfectly necessary, but it was appreciated. Aa few people started to clap too, spatterings of applause, but it meant it wasn’t horrible. It meant that maybe she hadn’t embarrassed herself completely?

“Want to do another, girlie?” The mandolin player prompted, startling her into twisting around. “Not too bad.”

“Oh. Um. Thanks. I know more PMP stuff if that’s okay.”

“I’d like a calm evening. Let’s do more covers,” the guitarist agreed. “Something a bit more upbeat?”

“I can do that. I think. Let’s do it.” She flashed as brave of a smile as she could muster, and turned back to sing more.

And she did it. She could do it. She could sing in front of a bunch of people and that was…kind of cool. And kind of fun. She didn’t know very many songs, but the musicians didn’t seem to mind. And the bar patrons didn’t seem to hate her about it.

When her throat was sore, when the entirety of her soul was exhausted, they stopped. It was late, wasn’t it? She had been singing for a while, it seemed. All she could do was stand there, confused, the microphone gripped weakly in her hands. It was hard to understand that any of that had happened.

“You did good, girlie.” The guitarist’s voice was soft, but she still twitched when he slid up beside her. “See you next weekend?”

What? No. She squeaked, something, but he just smiled and took the microphone from her, going about packing up. Like everything was normal and she hadn’t just sung in front of a bar. Of course, people did it all the time, but she was not people. She hardly functioned as it was.

The only thing to begin bringing her out of it was Min coming around the bar towards her, a smile on her face and her hands clasped in front of her chest like a saint.

More unconditional support, oh god.

“That was so good, Sep!”

“Liar.” Rubbing her hands on her hips, she stepped off of the stage. “I can’t believe no one threw food at me.”

Min’s smile softened, and she reached for her, gripping her shoulders. “You sang well, babe. Was it professional? No. But it was good. Everyone liked it. And if Corny doesn’t show up again, I think people would be more than happy to hear you sing again.”

Oof. She didn’t want to think about it. She could just smile, feeling the jitter of nerves through her body that was the remnant of adrenaline. Everything was foreign and weird, like floating outside of her body when she followed Min to the bar. It was just singing. People sang all the time.

She was just dramatic, as always. Always needing someone to soothe and comfort her, someone to take care of her. She was doing her best to do better on her own, but there it was. Min gave her a place to stay, a job, all of that. People continued to give her more than she deserved.

Leaning on the bar, she watched tiredly as Min counted out the money she was promised. It gave her time to think on things, at least.

“Did…were there a lot of tips?”

“Mm? Oh, yeah. People stuck around and bought plenty of beer. Don’t you fuss about it. I’m glad you sang for us. And I think you enjoyed it too.” Tapping the cash down onto the bar, Min folded her arms onto the polished wood. “You put a lot of energy into those songs of yours.”

Did she? She didn’t want to think about it.

“I think you should sing again. I’ll keep paying you, of course. Corny is so unreliable and you seemed to have so much fun…”

“I’ll think about it.” Min brightened up way too much. Had to assuage things. “I make no promises, but…yeah. I’ll think about it.”

“Well, it means a lot that you’re even thinking about it. I hope you had a little fun. Now go on, go to bed. Lenny should have something all packed up for you. He said something about making your favorite or whatnot.”

Said- “Lenny speaks?”

Min snorted, like that was an answer. Apparently it was, as she just waved Sep off like it was normal and expected. And it was, in Cadeau, of course.

Whatever. She headed on back like she was asked to, because that was something she needed to do. Just go about a usual routine. Everything coming in to her life would be normal. Her new normal.

So she did her part. She went back, and got the container the cook handed her, and continued on back to her shed. The container was warm in her hands, seeping into her aching joints. It seemed almost a shame to open it, but she was hungry.

It wasn’t a bad day. She was just doing fine. Singing could have gone much worse, but it hadn’t. People had listened and even applauded. Min was nice, she had a roof over her head, and all that. She had it good.

Tucking herself into her couch, she opened the container. It was hard not to smile at the pile of fried foods that greeted her. Hard to tell what any of it was, but hey, Lenny had made a good guess when it came to her favorites. Who didn’t like fried foods? And with a meal like that, it would be impossible not to pass out right after.

A rest well earned. It was fine to settle back and pick, to stare up at her ceiling and eat until it was impossible to stay awake.

Quite a life well earned.

Hell, she even woke up happy at the end of it all. With the sunlight filtering in through the windows, she had a softness in her heart that was…unusual. At least for her it was. It was a nice change. Maybe the singing had done her some good. She could worry about that some other time.

Smothering a yawn behind her hand, she forced herself to sit up. Ugh, sleeping in her clothes on the couch was not the most comfortable thing in the world, but it wasn’t bad. She’d slept in worse conditions, after all.

In a barn, in a closet, beside a monster, all that. A couch was one hell of an improvement.

Well, time to be an adult. Picking up her container of food, she carried it back to her mini fridge, tossing it inside. That would be a good lunch later, provided Lenny didn’t beckon her to the kitchen to sample something he’d made. He was fixing to make her fat, what with what he made for her all the time.

Not a bad deal. Could be worse. A quick shower was in order, to get her sleep sweat was off, to heat up her bad knee, massage it a little. As much as her brace helped, there were still aches and pains. Would be for the rest of her life. Why not add a few more pains? Bad hands from her writing work, bad knee from a bad ex, bad back from bad posture, bad everything.

Still, it was fine. Things could be much worse.

Well, she had time to spare. She could head on down to the thrift shop, pick up some essentials. If she remembered correctly, she had seen an old sewing machine there, and with her payment for singing…she could get it. Learn how to sew, make her own clothes, all of that. Pick up a new hobby to keep herself going.

Good plans. Hm. Plucking at her shorts, she hobbled over to her couch to get her brace put back on. While she was at it, she should go for some new shoes. Something better than the old sneakers she had currently. Maybe a purse or something, for when she had a wallet and things to carry.

Things to do, a life to form. Little things. Making it to her door, she hummed a little under her breath. Singing had been fun. She could practice a little. Yeah, practice, get good at it, earn more money every weekend.

Popping her front door open, she stepped into the morning light, squinting at the back of the bar. Door was already propped open, the sounds of working coming from within. Lenny never rested it seemed.

She turned to lock her shed door behind her, fumbling a bit with the key. She’d never been very good with doors. How much do you turn the key before you pull it out of the handle, and whatnot. So many little things.

Either way, she got the door locked, and she turned back to her empty field.

Only it wasn’t so empty that time.

There was a man there, on the grassy path, thumbs hooked in his belt loops, his jaw shifting as he chewed a toothpick. As he looked at her with golden eyes, with a bandage across his nose.

Her breath choked off in her chest. For fuck’s sake, she had to have known that he would come for her, regardless of what Min said. He was determined, that was for sure.

“Black,” she sighed, slumping in place. “So. How’s your nose?”

He exhaled sharply, the edge of his lips curling up a bit. A smile, a wry one at that. His head dipped, and he shuffled up the pathway towards her. Every time she saw him, she remembered how fucking big he was. And when he stepped up onto the first step of her porch, he loomed, hovered. Resting his forearm against the post, he looked down at her the same way he always had.

Her heart was pounding, but there was a warmth there too. Heat in her chest, a difficulty with breathing. He was there, alone with her. She was going to die, and all she could do was look up at him like he was something to be worshipped.

Oh how she ached to see blood dripping down his face again. The blackened patch on the bridge of his nose was quite lovely.

There was no thought in her head. She stepped closer, and she reached up. She only realized what she was doing when her fingers brushed over the bandage on his nose. He stood there and let her do it. He only blinked slowly, like the sleepy old gator that he was.

“Does it hurt?”

“Some.” His voice felt fucking erotic in the air. “Did a number on me, cher.”

Her fingertips pressed down onto the bruise, slicing a hiss from his chest. It sounded lovely.

“I liked seeing you bleed.” The words came out without a thought. A risky thing, but it wasn’t a lie. “I liked seeing you hurt.”

“Did it excite you?” His hand closed around hers, drawing it down, pulling it to his chest. It seemed to hover there, then pressed her hand over his chest, to where his heart beat underneath. It seemed a shock that he even had a heart in the first place.

Yes. It had felt better than anything else she had ever done. No erotic images, no actual physical touch had ever felt as good as seeing him hunch and bleed. If only she could see it again, over and over, as much as she could handle it.

She didn’t answer, but he smiled, and he loomed ever closer. He smelled like mud and wind and mold.

“You feel it deep down? You feel it in your sweet little-”

Her other hand snapped up, her palm clapping over his cheek with the most satisfying slap she had ever heard. And just as she knew it would, it made him chuckle, like it hadn’t happened at all.

“The state of my crotch is none of your concern now. We’ve broken up, remember?”

“Mm, right. ‘Cause you and me were dating. You were my little sweet cher, sweet in my bed, mm?” He still held her hand, still looked at her like she a piece of meat. She hated how it made her feel. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah, no one to cook for you. No one to clean up that filthy hovel of yours. No one for you to use like a filthy fucking sex doll, hm?” Flashes in her memory, months of serving him. “You’ve missed what I did for you, that’s it.”

“You want me to miss you for more?”

“No! No. Absolutely not.” Yanking her hand from his, she took a step back. He was so fucking big, fuck. What was she even doing there? Why was she even daring to talk to him? He didn’t deserve her time, her breath. “Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?”

“You want me to kill you?” His head tilted to the side, an inquisitive beast, so calm in the moment but so potentially dangerous. “Or do you want to kill me?”

Oh. Well. That sounded better.

“Yes.”

“You want to see me bleed?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to scream? To gasp for air?”

“Yes!” Taking a step forward, she shoved him hard in the chest. Definitely not hard enough, but he let himself be shoved, let himself tip and fall back into the dirt with her to follow. He thudded down, and she fell to her knees over him, her hands around his throat like she had any kind of chance of actually strangling him. “I want to see you die! I want to see you suffer like I did! I want to hurt you, torture you, see how slimy and blackened your guts are! You disgusting piece of shit!”

His rumble echoed deep in his chest, his hands sliding up, pressing over her hips, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh. His leg lifted, his thigh pressing into her rump, pushing her up closer to his face.

He was manipulating her. She knew that. She was many things, but she wasn’t stupid. But she still stayed on him, keeping her hands around that thick neck, soaking in the warmth of his body underneath her.

“Saw you sing last night. I liked it.”

“Oh, you’d like the shit off of my boot if it had meat in it, you fuck. I’ve started a new life here and I won’t let you ruin it. I have a job, I have a home, and I actually have a friend.”

“Thought you wanted me to kill you.”

“Well, yeah, now that you offered the alternative to kill you, I’d like that more.”

“Think you can do it?” A hand slid up her back, so torturously slow, drawing her down closer. His breath was fetid and thick, like rot and decay. His teeth were yellowed, awful, crooked and sharp, and his lips peeled back from them in some kind of smile. “Takes a lot to kill a man.”

“You would know.”

He chuckled. He was looking at her like that, kind of warm, his golden eyes hooded. She knew that look. She knew it even before his hand pressed down on her back and her ass settled over his crotch.

He wanted to fuck her. Probably the main reason why he had come looking for her. Not to hurt her, not to kill her, but to relive some of their better times together. What was it he had said? She had only remained alive because she had taken his dick easily?

Her hand clamped over his nose, squeezing hard until that warm look turned into a snarl, fingers turning to claws against her back.

“Listen here, you swampy shit-stain,” she hissed, leaning closer to his disgusting face. “I will not end up chained in your house again. You tried to kill me.”

“You tried to kill you. Did a shit job of it too.” He snapped right back, one eye popping open to glare at her. “Show you how to do it better if you ever want to do it again.”

Ugh. She lunged off of him, crawling forward until she could lunge for the half buried appliance in her field, hauling herself to her feet. Her knee had locked up from being hunched down like that. By the time she turned around, he was already standing.

Despite the pain she had no doubt inflicted, he seemed nonplussed. That became abundantly clear when he pressed his thumb to a nostril, turning his head and shooting a blood-snot rocket into the grasses.

Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting.

“You stay away from me, Black McGrath. I’m done with you.”

“Are you now?”

Fuck. His voice, his fucking voice, his air, all of him. She couldn’t-

She shouldn’t-

She was obsessed, addicted. She could feel the hatred, of course. She hated him with every fiber of her being, was repulsed, disgusted, but she wanted to bathe in him, take in every bit of him, feel his skin again, feel his breath, feel him shake and bleed and choke, and-

Her lips peeled back from her teeth. There wasn’t a thought in her head. There was nothing in her but the shaking, the way her mouth gaped open and she screamed at him. Howled. A wild animal in her own right, she screamed out her frustration, her rage, her inability to do anything, to be anything but a vessel for Black McGrath.

He was a monster, but what had he made her? What had she become? Would she remain so twisted up inside for the rest of her life?

Probably. Until one of them died, she would most likely never recover.

She didn’t want to think about it that day. She just screamed out…something, and turned to limp on into the bar.

She could deal with it another time. Preferably never, but she never got what she wanted.

Could always just try harder, though.


	5. Emancipation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sep's really trying her best. Some decisions are good, and some aren't so good.

So she just had to thread the thread there? But that wasn’t what the picture showed.

Sep squinted at the sewing machine, hand slapping off to the side to where the manual was. The crinkle of paper was enough of an indicator, so she brought it around to squint at that too. Oh, well, it’d help if it wasn’t upside down.

There was an attempt to learn new hobbies. She’d never sewn before, but dammit, she was going to learn because she went to the thrift store, and there was a brand new sewing machine in a carrying case that someone had apparently donated as one whole kit. It was like a sign. She had been looking for a new hobby, and there it was. Sewing.

Well, she’d also picked up a diamond poster art thing and a few old cookbooks, but it had been a good trip. Who knew about thrift stores? Most people, but she’d never actually been in one before.

Slapping down the manual, she hunched down at her desk, squinting at the needle area. Oh, there, there was a loop. Okay.

With each day, each passing day, she was becoming a human being again. Everything was changing, everything was new. It was great. She worked at the bar, waitressed, and on Saturdays, when Corny didn’t show up, she sang. Which was cool, she supposed. But it made Min happy.

And now she was learning how to sew. Kind of. What was she going to sew? She didn’t know. Clothes maybe. Kids toys. She could make some kind of profit or something. Something to do on her days off.

She got it, right? Putting a piece of fabric under the needle, she held the thread as she rolled the wheel on the side of the machine towards her, lowering the needle into the fabric. Okay. Drop the foot, then press the pedal and…

The fabric moved, and thread was sewn through it and it was all very sudden that she inhaled sharply, yanking her foot off of the pedal. But there it was. A few stitches in her test piece of fabric.

Well then. She’d gotten it to work. That was something.

She’d just need some patterns to sew. Hm. Maybe the thrift store had some? Or she could hop on the computer in the bar and look some up. She still had to get a damn computer, and judging from the common word, she’d have to wait for some shipment or something?

Whatever. No rush or anything.

Clicking off her new sewing machine, she pushed back from her desk, glancing up at the clock. She had a little bit of time before work. Could chat with Min for a while.

It took a minute to put on her knee brace and then her shoes, but that was fine. It was Saturday, so she did have to look kind of nice. Well, she didn’t have to, but she figured that if she was going to be on stage singing, then she would look a little nice. Something for people to look at and all.

Not that she was a looker. She had some things people liked. A big ass, big tits. An hourglass figure due to rolls of fat settling the right way, she was a bit of a butterface. Well, she thought she was. Old acne scars, exhausted eyes, she didn’t seem the type that people would prefer. Not that she hadn’t had a run of people getting crushes on her over the years but really, it was mostly because of her ass.

Ah, she was just being a downer. Positivity, sure.

Every time she stepped out onto her front porch, she found her eyes darting around the space. He hadn’t been back since that first day at not near her home. He still went to the bar, but he kept his distance, mostly.

He still eyed her from time to time.

She made a point of not looking at him.

The sun had already started to fall in the sky, casting weird shadows. It was warm, and soft, just as much as it was damp. The humidity made the air thick in her lungs, but she just breathed deep, soaking it in. She would have to get an air conditioner for her shed. The heat that collected in there was getting to be a little ridiculous.

It wasn’t as bad as stepping into the kitchen from the back of the bar, though. She flinched at the wall of heat, though she made a point of catching Lenny’s eye and waving at him. He waved a whisk her way, though he didn’t look up. 

It reminded her of something she’d seen in a movie, or something. She did, at least. She was a twisted up psycho that couldn’t stop thinking about her twisted up psycho ex-boyfriend. She was piecing herself together bit by bit, but she wanted to be more, do better. She was singing in a bar, making decent money.

She could…she could be more. She could really be something.

Stepping into the bar, she stopped in the middle of the floor, staring at the open floor. In a few short hours, she would be on that stage, singing to a bunch of half drunk southerners who didn’t really care that much.

But she could make a lot out of all that. She had time. She was…

Fuck, she was pissed. She was pissed at Black, she was pissed at herself, she was pissed at fucking everything. She was just mad. She was…she wanted everything to stop, she wanted to change and she wanted to not be so fucking twisted up over everything.

Turning on her heel, she looked down the bar. Min was there, of course. She was always there, preparing things, cleaning things, being the most supportive piece of shit that Sep had ever met. Frustrating, really, but there it was.

Time to do something about it.

“Min.”

“Mm? Oh, hello there, Sep. How are-” Min’s brow furrowed, setting down whatever it was she was doing. Dicing steins or polishing limes, something. “Well you look all fired up. What’s up, babe?”

What was up? Hm. Okay. Swinging her arms in wide arcs, she lightly tapped her palms together. “I’m looking to make a change. Update my vision. Renew my…life. Renew my life.”

“No kidding?” That caught her attention as she rounded the bar, dusting her hands clean. “What kind of image you looking for?”

That was the million dollar question. And Min was just looking at her like…like she would do anything for her. She never could have asked for a friend better than Min right there.

“I want to look like something that any man would regret having fucked with.”

“Oh, now that sounds nice. And doable. You’ve got a good face for it.” Crossing her thick arms over her chest, she tapped a long finger on her bottom lip. “And you’d like me to help you out.”

“Yes please. I’m not exactly running on a lot of ability here.”

“No kidding. Well.” Shrugging, Min turned to offer a crooked arm. “I’m assuming we’re wanting this big reveal when you sing tonight, so we have a few hours to work with. That’s enough time for a makeover, right?”

“I’ve never done makeovers before, so, I’m not sure. But yeah, that’s the general idea.”

“Can do. We’re going to make a lowdown scum of a swamp man regret ever having broke your heart.”

Hell yeah.

She was one hell of a work in progress. A mess of epic proportions, but she was sure any kind of change would be a good one.

Sep had always known that there was an upstairs to the bar. It wasn’t where Lenny lived, at least. It seemed like a hotel, a broken piece of world that no one lived in. Maybe it was where Min was supposed to live, but wasn’t quite there. Something that was supposed to be there, but wasn’t.

“Alright. If we’re doing this, we’re starting from square one.” Opening some dusty doorway, Min slapped the light switch, revealing what Sep had imagined. It was an apartment, not that it seemed very inhabited. “Which means getting you clean, giving you a hair cut. Oh, how about some color? I think I’ve got some dye sitting around here.”

“Anything. I want to be different.” Desperately, she wanted to be different.

“Okay then. Into the shower. Because hooray, your shed house is great but I will be the first to admit that the water pressure is shit.”

And then why didn’t she fix it? Sep was just about to ask, but she was struck by Min wrapping her braid up on top of her head, pinning it in place. She was one hell of a work in progress, wasn’t she?

Whatever. Shrugging it off, she started to strip down, dropping them on the floor where she stood. Still a bit weird, though. “So you live here?”

“Hm?” Min strode over to a cabinet, dragging it open so she could sort through various little boxes.

“I don’t even know where you live. This looks like an apartment. Do you live here?”

“Oh.” Min dragged out an armful of boxes, carrying them over to what she could only assume was the bathroom. “No.”

Well if that wasn’t loaded as fuck, she didn’t know what was. And Min seemed to know it, because she sighed, followed shortly by the sound of running water.

“This was where me and my wife used to live.”

Oh. Uh. Undoing the last strap on her knee brace, Sep started to limp after her, cupping an arm over her breasts to keep them from jiggling around too much. And by the time she made it to the bathroom, she could see Min standing stiffly in front of the tub, staring at the water rushing in.

“I…” Min coughed softly, her shoulders going tight. “I’m not going to weave some story about true love, but my wife was everything to me. She supported me through everything. She…she helped me find out who I was. She helped me find doctors, helped me when…” Sighing, she turned to face Sep. “My wife’s name was Natasha, and she disappeared seven years ago. Went for a hiking trip with a friend in South Carolina. All they found was their car. Empty. Abandoned.”

She had no way of knowing. There was no way, she couldn’t have known, but somehow, deep in her gut, she could feel it. After all, if she somehow knew a serial killer, there was a big chance that-

No, don’t think about it. He couldn’t have. There were lots of bad people doing bad things. Black wasn’t responsible for the death of everyone in the entire world.

So. Just…hope.

“It hurts to spend too much time here. Especially alone. All I can ever do is pass through here. Too many memories.”

“Oh. Min, you don’t-”

“It’s okay. Really.” Min put on a smile, but it was tight, as she offered her hand. “It helps having you here. It helps.”

Great. Okay. Taking Min’s hand, she awkwardly stepped into the tub. And of course, her knee wobbled.

“You want to kneel in here? Might help. I’ll help you wash.”

“Okay.” Using Min’s help, she slowly knelt in the bottom of the tub, and it was-

Kneeling in a metal tub, body bruised, mouth tasting like blood, dried semen on her thighs, cold water from a hose, so much water, slippery soap and the beginning, the beginning and too much and and and-

“Whoa, hey, hey!”

Arms scooped around her middle, hauling her out of the tub. There was some general flailing, but the two of them tumbled onto the bathroom floor. Sep was naked and parts of her were wet, but that was fine, because Min was holding her and they were laying on the floor and-

“Fuck!” Sep screamed, digging her nails into the sides of her skull. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck let me just take a fucking bath without- Fuck!”

Min didn’t say much. She just held her, laying a gentle hand on her head.

Her heart was pounding, and she was cold, and she was sweating. She was so mad, she was so fucking mad, she couldn’t-

“Okay.” Min gave her a solid pat, starting to sit up. “I have an idea.”

She didn’t want any ideas.

“C’mon, babe. C’mon.” Min didn’t much care that she was naked. She just hoisted the both of them up, carrying her out of the bathroom and to the window. “You know what I need? I need to yell real loud, and I think you need it too. So.” She set her down, taking a moment to make sure Sep was steady before she dug her fingers into the painted over window frame, dragging open an old, rickety window. “Stick your head out.”

“I’m naked.”

“Neat. Stick your head out.”

Fine. Whatever. She slid out beside Min, staring down at the street below.

“Okay. Count of three, and we fucking scream.” Min flashed a quick smile. “We scream as long and as loud as we want. Just scream until we feel better.”

Sure, why not? Unless screaming brought back memories too, because she did that a lot. So much screaming!

Slapping her hand down on the window sill, Min inhaled deeply and howled into the air. It came from deep within her chest, pushing everything out of her. If Min was doing it, then Sep could do it. So she screamed too.

At first, she felt ridiculous, but there was something insanely cathartic about pushing everything out of her abdomen. And while her screams first started as something very half hearted, the more she did it, the more she found the sound building within her. It felt good to scream, to push everything out of her until there was nothing left. It made it easy to forget making sure that Min was screaming too. They just howled into a no doubt very confused city until they somehow broke into laughter.

Eventually, they moved back inside, and they managed to go through the bath again. Everything was quiet through it until they sat at an old, dusty kitchen table, with Sep’s hair wrapped in strips of tin foil while Min did her makeup. It was a comfortable sort of silence, much like the peace of a field with storm clouds rolling in.

“I’m not one to press into other peoples’ business,” Min murmured, peering down her nose as she painted no doubt too much eyeshadow onto her eyes. “But…people who go through rough breakups don’t usually have panic attacks when kneeling in a bathtub.”

There was a pregnant pause, but Min didn’t comment when Sep’s eyes dropped to their laps. Quiet acceptance, acknowledgement, something.

“I won’t press. It’s your life, but…”

“Min, I-”

“Whatever happened, whatever you’re going through…” Min turned, setting down her brush. “It doesn’t matter right now. I see a lot of myself in you. I’m a little further past my trauma than you, and nothing helps more than having a sympathetic party during recovery. So, if you ever want to talk, ever need anything, I’m here, Sep.” There was a pause as Min picked up her eyeshadow palette and another brush. “Don’t cry and fuck up my work.”

“Sorry,” Sep choked, tilting her head back, staring up at the ceiling. “Sorry, thanks, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I did kind of drop that on you. But hey, when we’re all done here, you’re going to look so fucking hot that Bl…whoever did this to you is going to regret being such a fucking prick.”

Sure. Beyond that, it was more than that. It was just acknowledging that she was different now. Not to devalue all that she had gone through, but it changed her. She was a different person. Was she stronger? Weaker? Who knew? She couldn’t take a bath without freaking out, so that made her weaker. But she was still trucking onwards, so that made her stronger.

It definitely took a lot longer than most people would take, but hey, she was a fun case. But there she was, sitting in an old chair, watching Min strap her knee brace on for her.

“Well, there we go.” Tightening the last strap, Min bounced back on her heels, smiling up at Sep. “My finest work.”

“Hey, well, splashing paint on garbage helps.”

“Garbage goddess.” Min tapped a fond touch on her jaw, bouncing back up onto her feet. “Alright, let’s go on down there. I imagine we have plenty of people beating down the door to come see you sing.”

“I am terrible at singing.”

“Well, lucky for you, everyone in Cadeau has no taste whatsoever.”

Seemed Min had moved on to agreeing with everything she said. That worked. Sep just chuckled, following after, out of that old apartment. There was something different there, some kind of confirmation, some kind of understanding. There was some question on whether or not Sep would ever tell her the truth, but…but that would be a mistake. She didn’t know Min terribly well, but she knew her well enough to know that she would absolutely go to kill Black.

Not allowed. If anyone was going to kill him, it was going to be her.

The bar was still and quiet, but there was the soft murmur of talking outside the door, just as Min said. And Min started to head to the door, but stopped, turning on her heel.

“Alright, I have an idea.” Because that was enough description. Min was a bit like a freight train, turning back and coming towards the bar. “We’re making a big statement here.”

Okay. Okay? Sep stood in the middle of the floor, watching Min fuss around behind the bar. Glasses clinked, ice jingled, all of it going on a little too fast until the bartender came around with the stool and drink in hand. Thudding the stool down beside the bar, she gestured roughly to it.

“Sit there and look sexy. I made you a drink to sip at.”

“I…don’t really drink alcohol, Min.”

“I know. It’s mostly pineapple juice.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Min. Bless Min and her determined helpfulness. Sep just smiled, sidling over and taking a seat on the stool. She could pose, play her part. And if it was pineapple juice, then she was more than happy to drink it. And Min seemed happy too, as she stepped back, looked Sep over, and nodded once, to herself. Satisfied with the image, she headed on to the door, drawing it open.

Whatever was going on, Sep was just happy to stare blankly at the general direction of the doorway, watching people come in, welcomed by Min. However, when the first customer noticed her, she blinked, focusing again.

He was not the first one, but some of the customers did a double take when they saw her. Some merely nodded and continued onwards, but some smiled and gave little waves. So the change was good, it seemed, as she got plenty of acknowledging looks, appreciative of some kind. It was nice, she had to admit. She liked being noticed, having people look at her like that. Slowly, it made her smile, made her cast down her eyes and maybe, just maybe, feel a little flirty.

Still, she couldn’t milk it forever. The band showed up, and they beckoned her over with eager waves. As least they were happy to perform with her. She was happy to play with them too. And that night, she had a song in mind.

It wasn’t that she didn’t sing with a lot of heart, but when she sang that night, she sang with the intent to prove something.

She was a woman, dammit. Not a broken piece of shit, but a woman who could be beautiful, and strong, and more than just a panicked, freaked out creature. She was valuable, and it was a good thing that she was alive. She was worth it. She deserved to live.

When she sang that night, she made sure to show herself to everyone in that town. She swayed her hips with the music, she made eye contact, she made a spectacle of herself. It seemed like it was too much, but it was timed perfectly. She picked the best night to be everything that she could be, because she looked at the bar.

There he was. Her nightmare, the hammer who had tried to shatter her. He leaned against the bar, his tired eyes focused on her, just as they should be. He watched her, quietly drinking his beer. He didn’t look angry, or hungry, or anything like she was used to. He just watched.

Good. She was far from immune from his ravenous need to devour and destroy, but she had much better chances of survival then than she had any other time. At that point, Min would suspect Black if anything happened to her. She had her protection, had some kind of way to keep him back, keep him away from her. Let him see what he couldn’t destroy. Let him see that she was something to be considered, something to be feared. She would get the upper hand. She would be more. He had to see that.

When the time for performance was done, her heart was pounding. She was sure that she had looked elsewhere, but how could she be certain? It felt like she had spent her entire life looking at him, daring him to do something. Anything. Adrenaline. It was like tearing off a band-aid to look away from him, to look around the bar for something else to catch her attention.

Familiar faces, neighbors and customers that she had seen. She almost passed over one face, but her attention came back to them, focusing.

The gentleman from the taxidermist shop. Cooper? Cooper. That was his name. When her eyes met his, he smiled, his smile made wider by the ragged scar at the edge of his lips. Hell, he seemed to perk up even more when she noticed him.

Oh hell, just go for it.

Setting down her microphone, she stepped off of the stage, crossing the bar floor. It was all a game, a dance to show that she was different, not completely destroyed. She could ignore him. She wasn’t obsessed. She could walk up to Cooper’s table, fold her arms on the wood, and smile at him.

“Sep,” Cooper guessed, squinting, like he had forgotten.

“Yeah, Sep,” she laughed, resting her chin on her hand. “And you’re Cooper.”

“I am.” He rolled a bottle of beer between his hands, glancing down at it. “You sing real nice, Sep. Even when I don’t come by, I can hear it down at my shop when Min leaves the door open. You’ve got a nice voice.”

“Aww, thanks.” She could just talk to people, right? She could make friends, form relationships, be a real person. She could talk to Cooper, she could-

Her eyes slid past Cooper, over to the bar.

He was still staring at her. Only then, he didn’t look so quietly curious. His eyes were dark, his head lowered. And he just stared at the two of them.

She rolled her eyes back, putting on a sweet smile. “Hey Cooper?”

“Yeah?”

“Is that offer for a tour still good? I really would like to see the inside of your shop.”

It was all a game. It was a game she was intent on playing, proving herself, proving it all to him. Playing with fire, but she wasn’t about to get burned. That was why she smiled at Cooper. That was why she tilted her head and bit her lip.

“Oh. Yeah! Yeah, I’d like that. When are you free?”

“Well, I don’t have to go to work until later tomorrow. Maybe I could swing by in the morning?”

“Sure, that sounds good. Around nine?”

“I’ll be there. I look forward to learning about how a taxidermist works. It’s a fascinating art.”

That seemed to please him, as he flushed ever so slightly, looking back down at his beer like it was a far easier thing to focus on. “I look forward to showing you around, then.”

“It’s a date!” Pushing away from the table, she did her best to walk away as confidently as possible. She had never been a particularly good flirt, but she could take chances, show herself to be a better woman.

Now to beat a hasty retreat before she embarrassed herself any further. Time to go home, pick up some dinner from Lenny, and pretend that her new personality change was something she could maintain for a long period of time.

Stare straight ahead, walk certainly, and still manage to walk close enough to the bar that a piece of shit could still scoop too thick of an arm around her waist, dragging her in against his side.

“I don’t know what game you playin’, but I don’t like it.”

“Funny.” She rested her hand on his elbow, slowly turning her head to look up at his snarling face. “I don’t remember caring about what you like.”

His lip curled, baring broken teeth, but it softened, his attention dropping, becoming warm. But she was strong, and she was making a point of being strong, and she could do it. She could peel his arm off of her, pushing it down against his side. And she could look him right in the eye, and bare her teeth right back at him.

“I. Don’t. Belong. To you. Anymore.” 

Weirdly enough, his expression didn’t change. She expected anger, or something, but he just kept looking at her like that, and she was torn between the need to cup his face and punch him in the nose. What she did instead was keep walking, go back behind the bar and into the kitchen.

But she did it. She faced him, she spoke to him, and continued on. She hadn’t had a breakdown, or a freak-out, and she hadn’t hit him. She could survive. She could do it. She was a functional adult who could recover from her trauma one step at a time.

It was a dance, what they were doing. She knew enough to bury him alive, and yet, she didn’t. There was some broken part of her that could never be fixed, some fragile thread that kept her from bringing him to justice. She could claim wanting to exact revenge all she wanted, but a smart person would hand him off. He had some confidence that she wouldn’t rat him out. They danced, they fought, he intimidated her, she…

Did she have any effect on him?

That was a thought. One that made her hum as she locked her door behind her. She must have some effect, as he did keep coming around and he certainly looked pissed about her talking to Cooper. Something inside of him didn’t want her talking to Cooper.

Possession. He had said that she was his, way back when. Way back when she curled in his lap on the porch, her body recovering from starvation, her broken mind wrapped up with absolute devotion of him.

Thank goodness she’d recovered from that. What a way to go, hm?

Toeing off her shoes, she slumped onto the couch, staring at the far wall. She had a date. It was a spiteful date, but who knew? Cooper could be nice. He was handsome enough for an older man, all scarred up to hell and back. She could give it a go.

If she did pursue a relationship with Cooper, she would have to acknowledge that sex may come up at some point. And as much as she didn’t really want to think about sex, she would have to.

Okay, so, sure. She was jumping the gun a little. But she could do that. She could think as much as she wanted. Thinking was what got her trouble.

Well, she would see what her playing did with Cooper and Black. Only time would tell.


	6. Reset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sep's going to try dating Cooper, and maybe make some new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this story even make sense anymore

Was it obvious that she was trying too hard?

Probably.

Would Cooper care?

Probably not.

Fluffing her hair over her shoulders, Sep headed down the street to Grave’s Taxidermy. Honestly, it was a perfect name for his occupation, which really made her wonder if that was his birth name, or if he had it changed to fit. She could always ask him, but was that awkward?

She didn’t know what awkward meant. She was a human being that had no right to life at that point.

Did she necessarily agree with taxidermy? No. Anything that required a dead animal wasn’t great in her book, but there were circumstances that made it okay. If a family pet passed away, maybe, but even that had a creep factor to it. Just…having a carcass around made her skin crawl.

For more reasons than one, but sure, okay.

The door to the shop jingled as she drew it open, reflex bringing her eyes up to the little bell she had triggered. Noises always managed to get her hyper alert. Not something she could blame Black for; it was just something she’d always had a problem with. Loud noises made her anxious, made her tense and wait for something to happen.

But as with most times, nothing happened. She was able to walk into the shop, and it was quiet, and everything was fine. There was some temptation to roll her eyes at herself, but everything she felt was valid. Just constant reassurances that she was a human allowed to feel things and react to things. Not everything needed an explanation. Sometimes things were just things.

Clasping her hands in front of her, she took long strides, peering curiously around the front of the shop. Cooper no doubt had heard the bell, and would be coming up to see her, so all she needed to do was wait. She’d get that tour, she’d flirt, and everything would be fine.

“Welcome to Grave’s, how can I help you?”

Well that was not Cooper’s voice. That was the voice of a young woman, namely a young woman with a mohawk, tightly curled hair styled upwards into a soft, poofy mane. A lovely woman, lovely enough that Sep felt heat warm her cheeks.

The woman leaned on the counter, a perfectly sculpted brow lifting slightly. Geezus fuck, how had she never seen that woman around town?

“Um. I’m here for Cooper? He said he was going to show me around.”

“Oh, right.” Her head flopped to the side, the laziest turn to peer back into the shadowy recesses of the shop. “Graves!”

There was a scuffle, the thud of something being dropped, presumably. “What?” Cooper hollered back, more scuffle going on.

“There’s a lady here for you.”

“You know how to take orders, for fuck’s-”

“A lady with a fucked knee and a bald spot!”

Oh. Well. Not the worst thing she’d ever been called but okay. Such art, such decency.

“A…oh! Shit!” Scuffling, another thud, and Cooper lunged out from the back, smoothing his hands down the front of his shirt, wiping something away. “Sep! I did not forget, I swear I did not forget.”

“No harm if you did. If it’s a bad time, we can do this another time.” She already started to take a step back, pointing over her shoulder.

“No no, it’s fine. I was just getting an order finished up. Another taxidermized fish.” At that statement, his eyes rolled upwards. “No issue.”

“Uh. Well I’m sure you’ll explain why a taxidermized fish is eye-roll worthy because as of now I have no idea.” Awkward finger guns were a girl’s best friend when put together with uncomfortable situations. “If that’s something you’d be willing to teach me.”

“Of course, yeah. Any questions you have, I’d be happy to answer.”

“Neat. So. First question; who is this?” Awkward finger guns turned back towards the woman at the counter, and with the point, the woman wiggled her fingers at Cooper, as if reminding him that she was there.

“Oh! This is Delilah. She’s one of my employees. She runs the counter mostly, takes orders and sets up deliveries.” Cooper sidled over, resting his prosthetic hand on Delilah’s shoulder. “Believe it or not, she’s the most charming of us all.”

Yeah, she didn’t believe that for even a moment. Still, she smiled and gave Delilah a wave, who just wiggled her fingers back, like she had before. Apathetic, tired. A younger lady, maybe even barely into her twenties. And very, stupidly pretty with dramatic makeup and facial piercings and that perfectly smooth skin.

“So, if you want, you can come on into the back and we can continue this little tour of my shop. Delilah, keep doing what you do.”

“Sure thing, boss.” With a salute, Delilah slid her phone out of her pocket, tapping away at something. Because that was the most attentive thing to be doing, but Sep didn’t give a shit. She was just after one thing, and unfortunately, that was seducing a man that was probably too nice for her.

Not seducing, for fuck’s sake. She was trying to start a life that didn’t revolve around her past. And figuring out if dating was something she could do was one thing she could do. Normal people dated all the time. And Cooper seemed nice enough, and it was worth a shot. She was not the worst person ever. Mostly. Normally. Fuck, it was hard to tell.

Whatever. She followed after Cooper, past the counter and into the darkness beyond.

The shop was honestly what she expected it to be. There were work tables, racks of tools, and various questionable bins of liquids. One table had what appeared to be a coyote being mounted, and there was a stack of bones on another. Lots of dead animals.

Neat.

“This is the workspace. I do most of the work here. Been doing this since I was fifteen years old, I think. Trying to teach my other employee on how to do it, but she’s quickly getting better at it than I am without much help.”

Another lady. Sep was far from possessive, but it may throw a wrench in her attempt to get a date going. It was fine, she was fine, everything was fine. She was a functional adult, and this was what normal people went through all the time.

“This is my main worktable here. And here’s that fish I mentioned before? See, the reason why fish are easy is because most of the time, we just take a casting of it and then paint it to look like the fish that they had caught. It’s nearly impossible to get fish skin to look good when dried; it likes to shrink, ruining the color and the texture.”

Huh. Cooper was pretty cute when he was talking about his craft. Most people were, with their quick words, intense looks. People were comfortable in what they knew best, and Cooper was clearly very comfortable in talking about his craft.

Sep just sidled up beside him when he took them over to his workbench, glancing between his eager eyes and the work he gestured to. Cooper himself was an interesting creature to watch. While everyone had their own unique appearances, Cooper’s story seemed to be written all over his body.

The ragged scar up the side of his face, pulling his mouth into a half smile that exposed too many teeth when he talked. Even his eyes seemed damaged, with one discolored with apparent burst blood vessels. A dark scar across his throat, the missing arm, all of it was stacking up to an image of a man who had been through a lot and come out the other side.

Much like her. His scars were all the more apparent than hers, though there was no way of properly scaling the comprehension of suffering. She had a healed cracks in her skull, a busted knee. She’d danced with death a few times, but what had he done? What had he seen? He dealt with death every day in the form of preserving animals. How did someone choose to become a taxidermist? Something about him being young when he started it?

“You’re rambling again, boss. I think you lost her.”

Another voice startled her, and him too it seemed, into both turning to look back at another woman, hauling a box of skulls onto a workbench.

A carbon copy of Delilah, it seemed, with a different haircut. Her face was almost exactly the same, at least, minus the piercings.

Wow. Cooper was just surrounded by young, pretty ladies it seemed. It was any wonder that Cooper would even take the time to talk to someone else when he had those two near him all the time.

“Was I? Sorry.” Cooper cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t mean to bore you, Sep.”

“You weren’t. Contrary to popular belief, women cannot, in fact, read each other’s minds. So pardon her for speaking for me, but I was quite enjoying what you were saying.” It came out very bitchy, but why wouldn’t it? How dare that woman make him ashamed for babbling on about something he enjoyed doing. Was she entirely focused on every word? No, but she could still enjoy what he was saying.

The other woman looked startled, staring back over at Sep. There was a silent sort of staring contest until the woman grinned, flicking her attention over to Cooper.

“I like her.”

“Oh. Well. Good.” Cooper coughed softly, waving over at her. “This is my apprentice, Sloane.”

“Delilah’s twin?”

“You know it.” Sloane shot a finger gun her way, winking with it. “Pardon me for busting in on your date. I’ll mind my own business.”

Yeah, she’d better. Still, Sep gave Sloane a quick smile, then turned back to Cooper. “So, you were saying?”

“Oh, hey, that’s okay. It’s pretty dark in here. You want to head on down to the diner and get a bite to eat?”

Well that sounded like a date. Good plan. “Sounds great! You can tell me more about how you preserve bones then.”

Was she making a point of proving that she had been listening? Yes. Yes she was. But whatever the reason, Cooper smiled, and waved the way forward out of the shop. He seemed to appreciate her company, at least.

Was she being defensive of a man that she wasn’t entirely sure she liked yet? Of course. Older man, kind of shy around her, it was fine, everything was fine, she wasn’t a mess.

Stepping out onto the street outside let her realize that there had been an odor inside of that shop. Quite an odor, kind of sour, really intense. Formaldehyde. Ugh. Smelling the fresh air was a bit like a punch in the face, actually making her flinch back.

“Yeah, it’s quite a smell. I don’t really notice it anymore.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” She chuckled, rubbing her knuckles under her nose. “I’m used to bad smells though.”

“The bar does smell bad sometimes.”

Not what she was talking about, but that was okay.

She had never been good with dates. They were incredibly awkward to her, and that one was no different. Cooper seemed unfamiliar with the concept, stumbling over words once in a while, though that wasn’t entirely fair to him. Maybe he genuinely liked her and was nervous around her. Maybe he wanted it to go well.

Did she like him? He was nice enough, handsome, and sweet. He was excited to share his knowledge with her, a bulky man in a diner booth picking over a club sandwich. She could give him a chance, at least. To date and develop something together, if he wanted.

When the food was eaten and the time had passed, she felt…no different. He was fine company, but it wasn’t like her heart beat faster or anything. She tried to pay, he insisted, and they headed out. Furthermore, he insisted on walking her back to the bar. Not much of a walk considering the size and layout of Cadeau, but if he wanted to, that was fine.

“I had a good time with you today, Sep. I…felt like it was a date. Was it?”

Incredibly awkward. It was sweet, but her smile felt different, not entirely legitimate when she turned it up to him.

“Yeah,” she sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I think it was. I’m glad you agree.”

His grin was near blinding, the scar in his cheek seeming to tug painfully at the skin. “Alright, then. Well, if this is something you’d ever like to do again, I’d be happy to go out with you again.”

“Yeah. Until then, Cooper.” She caught his hand, tipping up on her toes. She was just barely tall enough to press a kiss to his cheek. The scar tissue was noticeable under her lips. It made him laugh a little. Very sweet. But she still turned and went inside of the bar.

Was she wrong for dating him? Probably. There were so very many things wrong with her, too many to count. Taking it out on Cooper wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to him, wasn’t fair to her, but there was a time to be selfish, and she was sure as shit doing it then.

She cast a wave at Min, not even pausing to see if the bartender noticed it. Wrapped up in herself, in her own thoughts. Happened all the time, would always happen. It was a survival tactic. Wow, she really needed to start therapy.

There was still time before work. Time to watch TV or something. Relax. Figure out what the hell was going on with her day.

A good plan. One she wanted to go through with. But as always, life wanted to be a fucking asshole and throw things in her way.

Stomping up the front steps of her porch, she turned and kicked her good leg as hard as she could against the side of her porch chair, managing to rattle it just enough to make the sleeping piece of swampy shit snort sharply and kick outwards.

“How long have you been sleeping here, waiting for me?” She hissed through gritted teeth, glowering as he tapped his hat back off of his eyes. “Fucking creep.”

“Sure am,” Black grumbled, sitting up straighter in the chair, adjusting his hat on his head. He cleared his throat, blinking at the back of the bar. He looked tired. He always looked tired. “I-”

“Get away from me. Get away from my home. You are fucking relentless. I am not yours anymore.”

“I know. I know you’re not.”

What? That gave her pause. Seeing him shift forward, draping his arms over his knees, still staring at the bar was strange. He seemed more real than real, a piece of reality that could never be compared to anything else there. Perhaps it was because she was familiar with so much of him in ways that she didn’t think people could be familiar with someone.

“Just want to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Don’t you?” Only then did he look at her, tired, calm. “Maybe you could listen.”

“Why would I listen? What could you, of all people, have to say to me?”

“Maybe if you listened, you’d find out.”

Smart ass. There was a wit there that she didn’t know he had. Not like they really sat to talk ever.

“We can talk in the bar, if you want. So your guard dog can keep an eye on me.”

“Because you’d hurt me if she didn’t.”

He didn’t reply. Didn’t have to. He just blinked, and waited.

“You won’t leave me alone until I say yes, will you?”

“Right.”

“Fuck. Fine.” Because she didn’t have any choice in the matter. She knew him. She knew what he was capable of, and if he wanted to talk to her, then he’d find a way. Might as well just see what was going on, at least while Min could be there.

They stared at each other for a minute before she moved first, limping on back to the bar. She hadn’t kicked him with her bad leg, but her knee was still complaining. Might have twisted it a little. Having him behind her was strange. The back of her neck tingled. He still stank.

Going through the kitchen and into the bar had her twitchy, her eyes darting around. She knew where Min was, but she was still waiting for her to leap out. No need to worry though. Min was far more aware than she thought.

The moment they moved into the bar, a rag flew through the air towards the two of them. Aimed at Black, of course, but he lurched back, dodging it.

“McGrath! I told you to-”

“It’s fine, Min. It’s fine.” It felt weird to even be saying that. “He…just wants to talk. So we’re going to sit in here and talk.”

Min seemed unconvinced, fist still raised as her eyes darted between the two of them. A good friend for sure, but things had to be done.

“We’re going to sit right there, okay? So you can keep an eye on me. And on him.”

“The moment something funny happens-”

Sep flapped her hand at her only friend, continuing on to a booth. Close to the bar for Min to see them clearly, but not too close that she could easily overhear. Because knowing Black, he was going to say something gross and weird.

Sitting across from him reminded her of the breakfast they had all those months ago. Sitting there, like a date. Weird.

Plucking his hat off of his head, he scrubbed his fingers through his hair. There was a visible line of grime in his hair where his hat did not cover. Gross. But he sighed, setting his hat down and looking at her like the tired old fuck that he was. She knew he was in his forties, but sometimes be seemed younger and older all at the same time.

The eye contact was weird. Couldn’t look away, though. It’d be a sign of weakness. Maybe.

But he didn’t say anything. For wanting to talk to her, he just stared and said nothing like a brainless fuck.

“So do you think I can speak telepathically because I really fucking cannot.”

The edge of his lips curled, his eyes squinting. It wasn’t really a smile, but it was a smile.

“Missed you,” he rumbled, the sound sending such a twist of nausea and something else that she was not going to acknowledge through her.

“You don’t get to miss me.”

“Too bad.” That woke up whatever he wanted to say, as he shrugged, continuing his drawl, his lazy speaking. “You dating Coop is a bad idea.”

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”

“He won’t love you.”

“And you will?”

“You want me to?”

Shit. Her jaw clicked shut, her eyes narrowing at him. He just lifted a brow, waiting for her to respond. There was nothing more to be said at that.

There was a dare in his eyes for her to protest more, but when she remained silent, he shrugged.

“You want to date someone to feel better. Coop won’t do that for you.”

“Why do you care?”

“If you could stop being so defensive, that’d be great.”

“You tried to kill me.”

“Again, you tried to kill you.”

“I fucking hate you.”

His eyes rolled upwards. “Mmhm. Coop ain’t good for you. He ain’t good for anyone. Best to just leave him alone.”

“What, is he going to rape me? Murder me? Force me to eat-”

His hand snapped onto her wrist. It didn’t squeeze, but it did startle her into silence. His hands were so big. She always forgot.

“There’s a reason you haven’t told the cops yet. Don’t tempt fate.”

Geezus. That was visceral. “Why warn me?”

His thumb moved. He rubbed her wrist. The scarred pad of his thumb swirling over the ridge of bone on the side of her wrist. “Coop is my friend, but he isn’t good for anyone. He isn’t good for himself.”

“And you want what’s good for me?”

One burly shoulder jerked upwards. He was staring at his hand on her arm oddly intently. It was a little interesting with the contrast of their skin tones.

“Interesting to see you like this.”

“Like what,” she sighed, resting her other elbow on the table so she could plop her cheek on her fist, alternating between looking at his hand and at his face.

“Like a person.” Only then did he look up, their eyes meeting. “Not as my plaything.”

“You could have before.”

“I did. For a little while. Didn’t I?”

The whole conversation was weird. It made weird bubbles in her stomach, made her heart feel twisted up. Anxiety? Talking to him on what seemed to be equal footing didn’t seem natural. They had never been on equal grounds before, but there they were, in the corner of a bar, being glared at by the bartender and just…talking.

“I don’t think so. I was scared of you from the very beginning. When you…” She faded off, glancing at the bar, at Min. “On my car. Maybe then, I was a little bit of myself. But when you…I don’t know.”

“Start over.”

She made a soft sound in the back of her throat. Seeing him hunched there was almost confusing. It didn’t seem like he was the same person.

“We can start over.”

“I won’t be with you again, Black.”

“We were never together. I don’t date, remember?”

“I wasn’t asking you out.” What an idea, dating Black McGrath. What a stupid lie she had woven before. “I’m going to date Cooper.”

He flinched, ever so slightly. Whatever idea he had in his head about Cooper, he really felt strongly about it. Still, he slipped his broken fingers through his filthy curls, leaning back in his seat. He was so fucking bulky.

“Let’s try.”

“Try what?”

He drew his hand off of her wrist, offering it instead. “Black McGrath. What’s your name?”

“Oh.” A startled laugh slipped out of her. It sounded kind of nervous. “That’s what you meant.”

“Come on.”

“Don’t you ‘come on’ me. This is weird.” Still he stared, so all she could do was roll her eyes. “Alright, fine.” Slapping her hand into his, she pumped it twice. “September Mendax.”

“September?”

“Yeah. My friends call me Sep. And you, sir, are not my friend.”

He snorted, dropping her hand. “Well. I should go. Min looks about ready to pop.”

“Understandable. You are a menace.”

“Sure am.” He winked at her. That fucker had the audacity to wink at her as he picked up his hat and shoved it back on his head.

“Don’t you-”

He swept out of the booth, turning a cordial nod at Min. “See you later, Min.”

Min just grunted and nodded shortly, casting a look at Sep. She could only shrug in response. It was all really fucking surreal.  
Whatever that whole thing was, Black lumbered on out of the bar like everything was normal.

Sep honestly could take the time to just mentally absorb that whole conversation, but Min offered no quarter, rushing over to her side to check on her, to see if she was okay. And the weirdest thing was-

She was. She was okay.

Black was still a freak. He still hurt her. He would still hurt her if presented with the option. But talking to him there had been…fine. He could be trying to manipulate her again, but did he really have the mental processing power to plan something like that out? He wasn’t stupid, but he didn’t seem to be that cunning, at least in that matter.

It may have been the inherent safety of living there, of having Min as a friend, of dating Cooper. She had ties, she had connections, making her a far less appealing target for him. Things could be traced back to him, so he wouldn’t do it. Well, he could, but it would make things terrible for him.

So she was safe. Maybe.

Whatever. She could think about it some other time. She had work to do.


	7. Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sep can be a good girlfriend. Right?

“What about this one?”

She sorted through a few more hangers before she managed to tear her eyes away. There was some processing power that buzzed around until she could fully comprehend what it was that Cooper was showing her.

“Good god.” The immediate response out of her lips hardly covered it. “That is the ugliest shirt I have ever seen.”

“Isn’t it awful? I think I saw Linda wearing it last year. It looked just as bad on her as it does on this hanger.” Cooper turned it around so he could look at it, his head tilting to the side at the memory. “It took her far too long to donate it.”

“And now she has made it everyone else’s problem. Put that damn thing back on the rack, I swear.” Tsking she turned back to her sorting.

It was date number…whatever. It was hard to tell how many dates they had been on at that point. Which probably meant that they were a thing together. Officially a thing. She’d never really had a boyfriend before, and it was a strange feeling entirely. Something most people were used to, something most people could claim having a lot of in their lifetimes. She had one. And a half. Mostly one.

Did he even count as a boyfriend?

She paused in her sifting, glancing over at Cooper. He was down just a little further, sifting through tops. For her. Because she said she needed a better wardrobe and he offered to help her at the thrift store.

There was a hefty amount of doubt in her mind. Because she knew what couples did. They fucked. They kissed, even.

Because they hadn’t.

Not that she hadn’t had opportunities to. He was attractive, of course. A good, handsome man who treated her nice, who took her to dinner and sat and chatted with her, and every time she had an inkling to kiss him, it would disappear the moment she had the thought. She wanted to kiss him, and then she didn’t.

There were probably some expectations that she had in her head that she wasn’t directly acknowledging. Underlying issues. Memories of other kisses. Worse kisses.

But it wasn’t fair to Cooper. He was a nice guy who really seemed to like her, who draped his arm around her whenever they stood somewhere together. He was affectionate, attentive, and she was the worst girlfriend ever.

Shaking her head at herself, she continued to sort through the clothes. Might as well succeed in something. If it was in buying clothes, then so be it.

“So how did your singing go last night?”

“Mm? Oh, it went pretty well. I really wish I had the brain power to come up with my own songs, but…eh.” She shrugged, pulling out a dress. A nice option. She could do some altering on it, maybe make it nicer. “You couldn’t make it last night?”

“Nah. Sloane was working on a raccoon skeleton and I didn’t want to break her flow. We worked late on it, sorry.”

“Oh that’s fine, I don’t mind. My singing isn’t anything special.”

“I like your singing. Here’s some shorts, by the way.”

“Oh,” she cooed, wandering over to his side. “Cooper, if you think those will fit my ass-”

“Next to them, hold your horses.” He tsked, pulling out a much larger pair. “Hey, are you free this evening?”

“It’s Sunday, of course I am.” Honestly, it was a surprise that the thrift store was open on a Sunday. Good ol’ religious South, with everything closed on Sundays. “Have something in mind?”

“Well, I know there’s a little get-together down at beach tonight. Cookout, drinking, that kind of thing. Maybe you’d like to go with me?”

“We have a beach?”

“I wouldn’t call it a beach, exactly.” Cooper trailed off, eyes rolling upwards in thought. “It’s where people sunbathe when they aren’t working. I don’t know. It’s the cleanest part of the river and the gators don’t seem to hang out there as often.”

“Oh. Guess I don’t go down there enough. Who will be going?”

“Eh, half the town tries to go. Mostly the fishermen and other workers go. A chance to eat, drink, talk, and most of the time they manage to hook up with someone, but…wow that sounds weird but I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Coop, sweetie, you’re babbling.”

“Sorry. I do that.” Clearing his throat, he continued to sort through the clothes. “I’m just saying, it’s a relaxed get together.”

She chuckled softly, laying her hand on his arm. “Sure. That sounds fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I need to socialize more, anyhow. I think it’ll be fun.” There was only so much that Cadeau had to offer in the terms of entertainment, and if hanging out on a beach was the most fun that could be offered on a Sunday, then so be it. “I’ll just hang off of you the entire time.”

“That sounds fine to me. Great. I can come get you from the bar at eight, and we can go there together.” He sounded honestly so excited. She must have been doing well.

“Should I bring something with me?”

“Eh, you won’t go wrong with a case of beer.”

Parties. She had been to a few of those. Mostly release parties for her books. Just hanging out with the intent to socialize was completely unfamiliar to her, and she was definitely going to struggle at that whole thing. At least Cooper seemed a bit awkward too.

“I’ll bring one, then.”

“Great. I look forward to it.”

Sorting through a few more racks, they managed to find clothing worth buying for her. He insisted that he didn’t need anything, so they headed out, and separated at the curb to go their separate ways. He had some orders to finish up with Sloane, and she just wanted to relax before socializing anymore.

It was going to be a lot a handle. She knew that. She was going to be weird, she was going to say things that she would regret, and so on. She was just a messed up piece of shit who didn’t know how people functioned.

Hell, she’d have to ask to buy a six pack of beer from Min for the party. And she’d have to ask if Min was going too. If there was someone else there that she knew, then she’d do better. She knew most of the people in town, but it didn’t mean she was familiar or comfortable with them.

There was really no reason why she wanted to go to the party. But Coop was a good guy and he seemed excited about it and she wanted to do it for him. Because she would be a good girlfriend even if she didn’t kiss him anywhere but on the cheek.

Might as well dress up for him a little. She showered, she put on some makeup and she put on some of her nicer clothes. Nicer wasn’t much of an accurate descriptor beyond it being clean and without holes. Still, she fluffed her hair, made it cute, and headed out.

Cooper seemed excited. That was encouraging enough. With a case of beer in hand, she was just as prepared as she could be.

“Thanks for coming with me. Are you okay to walk? I know your knee is bad.”

“It is very bad, yes. I need to exercise it, though, so walking should be fine. You may need to carry me after, though.” She made herself laugh at the end of it, which seemed to be good, as he laughed too.

God, she was a mess. Faking emotions and responses because she just wanted to be normal again. She was recovering, there were only so many times she could tell herself that, but she did not want to call Cooper what he was. Because it was what he was, and she was denying it, and she was a shit for denying it all because she didn’t want to call Cooper what he was.

A rebound.

Ugh, the thought alone was too much. Rebound implied that she had viewed Black as a relationship. That Black had been with her in a good way and she was sad being apart from him, and that she needed to get with someone else to get over the supposed good memories that she had with a psychopath. Maybe other people had rebounds after relationships that had her beaten and bruised and almost dead, but she didn’t want to be that kind of person.

But she was. She was that kind of person, walking with a man she probably wouldn’t really completely care about because she kept remembering the few good moments she had with a psycho.

The beach in question was something she had walked past nearly countless times. The only reason she noticed it now was because of the glow of a fire being built by excited locals, illuminating what Cooper had described.

There were already plenty of people there, though it didn’t seem as though it had started that long ago, considering they were still building up the fire.

Didn’t stop the throb of anxiety from going through her. Dumb as shit, but okay. She just didn’t like parties or gatherings of any kind, but she had to give it a chance. It could be different. It would be different. The people of Cadeau were a different breed from those who were at book signings and the like. Not that they weren’t intelligent, but this was the South. They were a different brand of intelligent, a function intelligent, a social intelligent. This was where a waitress would ask you for your life story as she brought you your pancakes.

So it would be fine. She was going to have a good time, and she was going to make more friends because she was a functional person who could do functional things.

The man building up the fire looked up as the two of them approached, a big smile spreading across his scruffy face. That was sign enough for Cooper to steer the two of them that way, smiling in return.

“Welcome, Coop! Good to see you here. And you! Sep, right? That lil’ waitress that sings for me when I don’t come around!”

Sings for- oh. Corny, the man with a blue eye. Which, sure, he did have a blue eye, and the other one was milky white. Why Min would mention the blue eye and not the white one, she had no idea, but it did make him more familiar, anyways. 

So she smiled, nodding. “Sure am. Nice to officially meet you, Corny.”

“Pleasure’s all mine. Welcome to my little shindig, welcome, welcome. I see you brought beer, so you can just drop that off in any of those coolers over there.”

A good start. Corny was a nice guy, it was nice to see him outside of the bar. It was nice to see all of those people outside of the bar. Sure, she was still nervous, but there were some grounds to have a good time.

“You okay so far?”

“Mm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Coop.” Good of him to check in on her. She rewarded him by hooking her arm through his, giving it a little squeeze. “Let’s get something to drink and socialize.”

It was a struggle to find something to drink that wasn’t a beer, but they managed it all the same. She just didn’t like to drink. There was no underlying reason for that; alcohol didn’t agree with her. Coper got a beer of course, and they settled about enjoying the party.

Was there some standard to those parties? All she knew to do was cling to Cooper, since he seemed to know what to do.

Which was wandering around and talking to people. She wasn’t great at that. She wasn’t great at a lot of things.

He might have asked her at some point what she wanted to do, but she didn’t entirely remember it. Didn’t much matter anyways, because at least they ended up seated on a cut log by a fire with some of the other party goers.

There was some kind of conversation about something. She spoke a little. Honestly, why was she blanking out so much? It wasn’t that bad. She liked the people there. She should really take the time to connect with them and be a better person, but her thoughts kept drifting, her eyes sliding, searching the party for something else.

There had been no way to know for sure, but there it was. She was smart, or stupid, or something. But there it was.

Black was there too. Of course he was.

Part of her was surprised, but another part of her wasn’t. He was a thriving member of the community. He was well known, well liked. People didn’t know the other part of him, the part that she knew. Of course people would want him there, want to spend time with him, talk and drink and have a good time.

All the same, seeing him standing by the water with a beer in hand made her feel cold all over. Memories, the same bullshit.

Cooper tried to say something to her, but when she didn’t respond, he must have followed her gaze.

“Oh, shit, uh- I didn’t think-”

“It’s fine, Coop.” She made herself turn away, swirling her drink in her hand. “We’ve talked.”

“Oh?” Whatever tension Cooper had in his body melted away, turning towards her instead. “Really?”

“Yeah. And while I’ll never forgive him, I just…I don’t know. We’re friends now, or something.” It was weird to say it out loud. It was a lie, but not a lie. It was what they had agreed on, for some reason.

“I don’t mean to press, but…” Cooper glanced around, checking to see if people noticed them. The act of looking around was the most conspicuous thing, but no one seemed to care anyways. “I’m under the impression that it was not a good relationship.”

“Gee, what was your first clue? Was it the fact that I shot myself in the head or that I had a panic attack when I thought you were him?” Her eyes rolled upwards, her hand lifting the soda in a weird sort of hover, like she wanted to take a drink but couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. “I don’t know, Coop. I can’t be terrified of him forever. And he…I don’t know. It’s fine.”

“If you’re sure. We can go if you want.”

“No, I’m fine.”

She had to know if he knew she was there. It was stupid. She just wanted to know if he felt the same way she did, if he’d feel weirded out, just as she did. He didn’t seem to have any issues at all. Ever. He was always the most laidback person, not letting anything bother him. If he hadn’t been a psychopathic cannibal, she would have appreciated his attitude.

But no. He was there, by the water, chatting it up with some woman. Drinking a beer, drawling some kind of nonsense that his chosen target seemed pretty into, as she giggled and made the worst fuck-me eyes up at that big piece of shit.

A feeling washed through her. She knew what it was. There was a name to it. She didn’t want to use it, but there was nothing else to it.

Her stomach twisted when her disgusting ex leaned down and no doubt purred some kind of obscenity into the woman’s ear. She was into it. She touched is chest, turning into it and probably trying to drunkenly nuzzle into his jaw. It was clear what he wanted. She wanted it to. They were going to do it.

There was a chance that Black intended to do horrible things to the woman after. He could end up taking her home, using her, keeping her as a pet until he was bored of her. She knew what that was like. She knew the pain, the suffering, the emotion and physical trauma. She knew it better than anyone else.

And she was fucking jealous.

Her grip tightened on her bottle of soda to the point that the shitty fucking joints in her hand popped. She was a fucking fool. She was looking at a serial killer and being jealous of the fact that the woman would-

Fuck, he was touching the woman’s side. She knew what his hands felt like. They were big and strong, so rough with scars that it snagged on her skin every time he touched her. She knew how powerful he was, how he could hold her down and use her, how he could make her back and abs ache with the force of his movements, how much he destroyed her body every time they-

She couldn’t breathe. Her stomach twisted, her lungs spasmed. Was she drinking a soda? A beer would probably be a good idea at that point.

“Sep? Are you-”

She snapped to her feet, her knee twinging hard in pain. Fuck.

“Whoa, hey-” Cooper fumbled with his beer when she whipped towards him. “Are you okay? You’ve been zoned out at-”

Her hand clapped down on his shoulder, her fingers clawing a handful of flesh and shirt as she jerked him towards her face. “I’ve decided.”

“Decided?” Poor Cooper. He looked so confused.

Didn’t matter. Because after looking at that shit, she had to do something, and the best option was to lunge and smash her lips against Cooper’s. Because she was a fucking piece of shit and she absolutely needed to get fucked immediately. Maybe the touch of another person would help her forget that she wanted someone else’s hands on her.

Cooper, to his credit, only huffed once in confusion before he kissed back. He was gentle. Too gentle. Of course he was too gentle, because he was a decent fucking man and he wanted-

But it wasn’t what she wanted. She bit his lip sharply, making him gasp and jerk suddenly. He didn’t pull back though, letting her kiss him again, though he still couldn’t match her energy. By the time she pulled back, he was breathing hard, color deep on his cheeks and creeping onto his throat.

“We’re going back to my place,” she hissed, tugging sharply on him. “And you are going to fuck me.”

“Yup, sure, absolutely,” he choked, looking for someplace to set down his beer, only to mumble something when she slapped it out of his hand. “Lead the way.”

Men could be so easy. Had he been waiting for her to be ready the whole time? Probably. There was also a chance that he hadn’t had any interest in fucking her for a while. He was an older man, but so was Black, and he’d never faltered.

Didn’t matter. She clasped Cooper’s hand and hauled him up. They had a ways to walk and she really needed to get there quickly. She wasted no time in hauling him forward, but she had to catch one more glimpse. She glanced back. Because of could she did.

Black was still ducked down, close to the girl, but his eyes were on her. He didn’t look happy.

Good. Good fucking thing. Let him be upset about it. None of it fucking mattered because she wasn’t his, and he wasn’t hers, and that wasn’t what she wanted anyways. She didn’t need him. She didn’t want him. They were apart, she had gotten free, and she was forming her own relationships with much nicer men.

Black was her friend now. Because she was safe. He couldn’t hurt her, and they were friends, and she didn’t want him, didn’t need him. She hated him, she hated him so much, she wanted to see him gasp and bleed, watch him die as she sank down on his cock and rode his corpse until she came.

Her panties were absolutely soaked by the time she made it back to her shed with Cooper in tow. Thinking of all she wanted to do, thinking of Black’s throat gaping open, his hands clawing at her, the light fading from piss yellow eyes as she laughed and laughed and-

The moment her door was shut, she whirled and shoved Cooper against it, biting kisses from his lips. Their height difference meant nothing to her. He was helpless to her wants and needs, helpless as she clawed at his shirt, shoving at it, pushing at it until he took it off.

She was ravenous. Was that how Black felt when he clawed at her? Desperate, hungry for pleasure, needing warmth and skin contact? She felt wild, feral, her thoughts twisted up in thoughts of another man as a perfectly good man got her shirt and bra off to suckle at her breasts. It wasn’t fair to Cooper, but she had to do it. She had to use the touch of another to try and erase the lingering contact that a man had left, the memories of months, of ages, of centuries of her life. She was aged and reborn all at the same time, a different person than she had been. Nothing would ever help her recover, but she could try.

Eventually, they stumbled over to the couch, with her collapsing back onto it. There was no art in the way she shoved at her shorts. She just wanted his cock, but Cooper knelt between her thighs, pressing kisses all the way to her cunt. He was too gentle there too. He licked and kisses like he actually wanted to please her.

Disgusting. Growling, she gripped his short hair as tight as she could, grinding her hips down, trying to ride his tongue into something better. Too gentle, too soft, too clean, not Black, would never be Black, erase-

She came with a series of curses, bucking into him. It had to hurt his nose, but she didn’t care. Of course she didn’t care. She didn’t want to come that way. She wanted her orgasm ripped from her, she wanted to not wanted, she wanted to not be broken, wanted to make sense, wanted to breathe freely and not be so fucking confused about everything.

“Okay,” Cooper gasped, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. “You feel better or-”

“No,” she snarled, dragging him up for more kisses with too much teeth. “I said I wanted you to fuck me.”

“Geezus, yeah, are you okay-”

“Too much talking.”

He could tell something was wrong with her. That was fine. There was a lot wrong with her. He knew what he was getting into when he started dating her. It wasn’t her fault. It was Black’s fault for breaking her, it was his fault for doing all that to her.

It was his fault that she thought only of him when Cooper pressed over her and slid his dick into her. It was his fault that it didn’t feel right, that it didn’t send the best thrill through her. It wasn’t fair. She just wanted something else to feel good, she didn’t want it all looping back to Black, to what he could do to her, what she missed, what she wanted.

Hooking her arms around Cooper’s neck, she hid her face in his shoulder as he fucked her. He sounded like it felt good. It was okay for her. It wasn’t what she wanted.

Fucking ruined. Ruined, broken, shattered and he was going to fuck some other girl. He was going to take her- no, not to his house. Probably back to his truck- no, not even that. He’d probably just take her into the bushes near the party and fuck the life out of her, maybe literally. A mating press, a hand on her throat, all animal, all feral and taking her, using her up.

Stop thinking about him! Stop, stop, it wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair. It was her life and he was wrapped up in all of it. No matter what she did, she was going to remain wrapped up with him. She was always going to think of him and it wasn’t fair. Maybe she should try again with the gun. Maybe she could be successful that time.

She didn’t want to come. It wasn’t even worth it. But it was fine. Cooper had some pull over her body. There was some kind of joy in getting sweaty with someone, breathing hard, bucking against each other and it was fine.

It wasn’t great. But it was fine.

Fuck.

He came with a shout. That was fine. He rubbed a thumb on her clit until she came. That was fine. It was all fine. Everything was fine.

Just…fucking fine.

And it being fine just made it terrible. It wasn’t what she wanted, but it wasn’t a good idea for her to have what she wanted.

Staring up at the ceiling of her shed, half draped across Cooper’s chest, she considered everything that was going on in her head. Nothing was good there. She needed a therapist. That was for sure. Or a bullet to her head.

Black had better be having a better fucking time than her. Well, better time fucking.

Hah.


	8. Casserole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sep has a boyfriend and a friend. Ain't that just a kick in the pants?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nasty man sick in many ways but also so is she.

If she had a little more faith in herself, she’d go to a doctor and discuss the possibility that she had actually died and was suffering in purgatory. Because it wasn’t torture. It was just continuing to exist.

Cooper really needed better games on his phone. She was definitely getting bored of what he had to offer.

The light filtering in through the little window cast weird shadows on the comforters. If she stared at them long enough, she’d no doubt see a butterfly and all the reasons why she was a terrible person. She wasn’t ready to acknowledge that. She wasn’t ready to even acknowledge that she was in bed with a sleeping man beside her.

There were a lot of things inherently wrong with what was happening at the moment. So many small details that all lead towards issues. For example, she had forgotten to take off her brace the night before, so she was going to have some terrible bruises. Another example, she was playing games on her boyfriend’s phone and pointedly ignoring that his phone background was of his two employees at his taxidermy shop. And the final example was that she absolutely felt nothing for the man and she had started to make a habit of having sex with him every opportunity available.

Because those were all concerning things. One was physical, ones was mental, and one was mental and physical at the same time. And they were all things that she was going to ignore. Because she was an adult who ignored her problems.

The phone let out a little trill as she failed yet another level. She could start the game up again, but no, she stared at the screen, blinking slowly.

Cooper snored softly. She kind of wanted to hit him.

Problems. She had plenty of those.

It was still early, so she clicked off his phone and shuffled down lower in bed. She could go back to sleep, but she wasn’t tired. Did she have work later? No, she was off that day. That was why she had invited Cooper over the night before. To fuck and be completely dissatisfied.

What the hell was wrong with her? So many options to do better shit with her life, and she went ahead and did everything terrible. She befriended her abuser, she dated a man she didn’t really care about, and for some reason, she got unreasonably upset with the idea that Cooper was also just settling for her when he wanted to be with one or maybe both of his employees.

A flop over onto her side, and she stared out the little window of her loft, at the somewhat empty field in front of her shed. She and Cooper had done a good job of clearing it out a bit, dragging out of the old appliances that had half sunk into the soil over years of neglect. There was some consideration to make a garden.

She didn’t want to make a garden. At least not one with vegetables. Memories, of course, because she was a whiny little bitch. She wouldn’t mind some flowers, though.

What was absolutely fantastic was her continued denial to the fact that she was upset that she hadn’t seen Black at all since the party.

Fucking hell, she had slept with Cooper in order to make him jealous. She had wanted to make bad man feel bad things and he wasn’t even rewarding her for doing that bullshit.

Stupid. All of it was stupid.

Hard to tell how long she had just stared out the window, but eventually, Cooper breathed deeper, shifting in a way. A way she was familiar with. She frowned to herself, especially when he rolled over and slid his arm around her waist, dragging her away from the view to nuzzle in against the back of her neck.

“Good morning,” he mumbled, tangling his legs with hers.

“Yeah. Morning.”

“Sleep okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

He hummed rather than reply, nuzzling past her hair to press a kiss to her skin. “Got any plans for today?”

“Not really. I’m off of work today so I guess I’m free. Are you?”

“No, I’ve got a lot of orders backed up that I need to work on.”

With Sloane and Delilah. That was fine. She wasn’t jealous. And even if she was, she totally deserved it. Because that was what she was doing with Cooper against Black.

“Maybe we can have dinner later? My place.”

“Sure, sounds nice.” Wriggling around in his grip, she planted her hand down on his cheek. It wasn’t as gentle as it should have been, but he didn’t seem to mind. He smiled, and let her do it, blinking slowly and just relaxing around her.

He certainly seemed relaxed around her. It was possible that he didn’t know that he didn’t want to be with her, but he certainly felt something for his employees. It was also entirely possible that she was reaching too far and trying to find problems in a relationship that she had never wanted in the first place.

All possibilities she could entertain. But not then. She didn’t want to think about it.

“Alright,” he groaned, shoving himself over onto his back. “Up and at ‘em.”

“Right. You can use my shower if you want.”

“Nah, that’s okay. I don’t want to risk taking all your hot water from you. Besides, I’m just going to count my lucky stars if I manage to get down from this loft without breaking my neck. Honestly, how many times have you almost fallen out of bed.”

“Too many times to count, but I do have my leg as an excuse.”

“Fair enough. Does my arm count?”

“Absolutely not,” she laughed, and felt nothing. Geezus.

But whatever it was, she made him a cup of coffee while he dressed, they gave each other a goodbye kiss, and he went on his way, leaving her alone in her little shed once more. It was funny how much her façade melted away, and she was back to herself. Her quiet, confused self with a boyfriend.

Never had one of those before. Cadeau was just the gift that kept on giving, the place of experiences and events that no one had gone through before. At least she hadn’t. People were the result of what happened to them, and she was the result of a very confusing list of events that she couldn’t put her finger on.

She had her coffee and ruminated on it in the shower, washing away the night before, standing n the water until it ran cold. She really didn’t have much to do that day, and in Cadeau, that was what people enjoyed. Peace and quiet, with nothing to do but relax in the sun with a good bottle of beer and the conversation of a lazy neighbor. Except she didn’t drink and her only neighbor was Lenny in the bar, and he didn’t talk much.

Scrubbing a towel through her hair, she walked naked through her home to her kitchenette, popping open the fridge to peer inside. She was running low on groceries. She could go to the store, pick up some stuff, maybe treat herself to some lunch. That was a plan. Not a bad one too.

It was really weird not having a car. She had spent years just…always having a car. All of a sudden not having one, and on top of that, not needing one? It was strange. Small towns with easily walkable distances? Obscene.

Her past had Black taking her to a tiny farmer’s market for their groceries before. Seemed a bit weird, as there was a fully functioning grocer on the other side of town. Maybe he didn’t like crowds, maybe he was a piece of shit, it was hard to tell. She could make guesses, but there was no point in that.

As much as she wanted to get a shopping cart to lean on, she had to acknowledge each any every single time that she would have to walk whatever she bought home with a bum leg. To make sure she limited all that she bought, she just got a hand basket. Because she couldn’t trust herself to limit her groceries when she had so much room in a cart.

Min offered to help her buy groceries sometimes. She usually turned her down, because Min would no doubt insist on paying for all of it, and she was already thriving off of her generosity. She didn’t deserve Min as a friend. Hell, she didn’t deserve Cooper as a boyfriend. She didn’t deserve a lot of things, but that was okay.

While there were some attempts to actively cook good food once in a while, it seemed like there was no point, what with Lenny feeding her so regularly. The only time she really needed to cook was when she was off, and even then, Cooper usually invited her over to come cook with him at his place.

So. Frozen foods? Probably. Easy microwavable snacks that she could quickly fix up. She was not healthy. That much was obvious.

Swinging her basket idly, she wandered over to the frozen section, humming softly along with the music playing faintly over the soft conversations of the shoppers in other aisles. There was some desire to write her own songs, but she really wasn’t the most musical person in the world. It was amazing she continued to sing at the bar. Corny was a lazy son of a bitch who needed to maintain his obligations.

The grocery store was actually surprisingly empty. It was a nice change, allowing her to go and grab her frozen dinners without feeling self-conscious. Just laser focus and dash to the freezer, ignoring the hunched shape of another shopper in the aisle, and it would be fine.

It was a little harder to focus when the other shopper started to hack and wheeze horribly, the thick moisture of sick lungs making every cough sound chunky. That kind of sickness was the worst, especially when there were still obligations to leave the house and go grocery shopping.

A sympathetic coo left her throat as she turned, maybe to give them an understanding look, but that faded quite quickly. Honestly, at that point, she had no idea why she was surprised. Fate was the worst son of a bitch.

Black stood at the edge of the frozen aisle, hunched over his shopping cart, his face turned into his shoulder as he choked up the phlegm in his chest. While tan as fuck, he still somehow looked completely pale. His dark, sunken eyes were even more bruised, sweat gleaming on his brow.

The beast was sick. Really sick, from the looks of it. It was hard to know how to feel about seeing him like that. He looked like a mess. A horrible, disgusting mess.

Well. That explained why she hadn’t seen him for a while. Regardless, she should go away, and leave him there to choke and die. But she didn’t. Of course she didn’t. Of course she walked over to him.

He wheezed, rubbing his sleeve over his mouth. His eyelids fluttered and his eyes turned towards her, but it took a moment for him to actually focus and see her. She could tell that much, because his head tilted to the side.

“‘Sup.” Because that was normal. But she nodded a little to him. And he smiled crookedly.

“Hi,” he rasped, thudding his arm down onto his cart. “Can I help you?” A snort jerked from her chest, and he chuckled. A great joke.

“You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit.”

“Good. What are you doing out here? Trying to get everyone sick?” A quick glance over his cart revealed a case of beer on the bottom and a bag of salt and vinegar chips. “Wow. Tasty.”

“I…” He huffed, thumping his cheek on his fist, looking miserably down at his cart. “You never wrote it down.”

Cryptic. She lifted a brow at him, but whatever irritation she felt had a hard time remaining with his expression. He honestly looked so miserable, and despite everything, she- 

Nope. No.

“Your recipes. You never wrote any of them down. And now I’m fucking sick and I wanted it. So I came to fucking cook it but I don’t know how you made it.”

“My recipes? I cooked from that old beat up cookbook.”

“Not always. You made that spicy noodle casserole and I wanted it.”

“Oh my god, are you whining? Is the great Black McGrath whining because he wanted num-nums and couldn’t get it?” It was impossible not to tease him, especially with the way he was absolutely bitching about it. “Aw, well maybe if big bad man didn’t try to do things then maybe I’d still be cooking for big bad man. You broke up with me, remember?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, slumping down lower.

It was weird, seeing him like that. Normal. Human. Weak. Sweat beading on his brow and his eyes closing as he tried his hardest to not fall asleep in that aisle. Good memories mixed with the bad, and there was no stopping her at that point.

Digging through her basket, she pulled out the frozen burrito and pressed it to his brow. The sound he let out was nearly pornographic, his hand lifting to hover over hers, to keep the improvised icepack there.

“Okay. I’ll make you that goddamn casserole.”

“Yeah?” One eye cracked open, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

“Yeah. You’re buying my groceries, though. As payment for me doing this for you.”

“Sure, yeah, of course. Fuck, really? You’ll-”

“Shut up. It’s just because you’re so damn pathetic that I can’t bear to hear you whine anymore.”

He rumbled, a smile spreading wider and wider over his face. Stupid beast. She rolled her eyes and dumped her meager groceries into his cart, and he still smiled like he’d won the lottery. Maybe he had, in his mind, knowing how food driven he was. Just an animal in every sense, shuffling along beside her, using the cart as a crutch.

Funny how time turned around. Grocery shopping with Black again. What a world.

“You’re wearing the hoodie.” She shouldn’t have said it. It was stupid.

“Mm? Oh, yeah. Your hoodie.”

Sure it was hers. She did wear it a lot. Back then. She rolled her eyes, stepping up to the shelf to grab a bottle of hot sauce. “You keep many memories of me?”

“Didn’t own much.”

“You didn’t give me much.”

He hummed. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

“This is weird. Buying groceries with you again.”

“How’s your head?”

“Cracked.” She glanced at him, at his glassy eyes. “My knee is worse than my head.”

He hummed, slumping a bit more. About ready to fall asleep. Old beast. Like he wasn’t responsible for all of that.

Whatever. They walked the aisles together, with them adding things to the cart as they went. She added her groceries and what she needed for the casserole, and he seemed to be adding random munchies. Which made her take a detour and get some actual vitamins for him, much to his grumbling displeasure. There was a faint argument about her getting him gummies instead of pills, and he insisted he wasn’t a child that needed gummies, even though he didn’t remove them from the cart.

But they paid, and they shuffled out to his truck. He mostly just stood obediently by the cart while she loaded the bags into the back. When told to take the cart to the corral, he just blinked at her.

“For fuck’s sake,” she grumbled, shoving her shoulder under his arm, hooking her own around his waist. “Get in the fucking passenger seat.”

“You’re so good to me.”

“Shut your fucking disgusting mouth and get in the car. I’ll drive us home. You’re useless.”

He hummed, laughed, something as she struggled to haul his bulk around to the other side. “Love it when you talk dirty.”

She honestly preferred it when he talked less. Shoving him into the truck was an effort when she may have been a bit rougher than absolutely necessary, but fine. He just laughed and slumped inside.

It was so hard to know how to feel. But she did feel something. That was a nice change. Cooper was a patch on an empty hole, a thin piece of cloth that did nothing to fill the cavity. Black seemed to be water, filling the emptiness and providing it something.

Maybe not water. Probably blood. Or puss.

Rolling her eyes at herself, she slid back into the truck, slamming the door behind her. Black had since shifted over and was slumped against the door, wheezing audibly with his cheek pressed hard against the cool glass. What a mess.

“Black?”

“Mm?” One eye peeled open.

“Is this why you haven’t been around town for a while?”

“Yeah.” His eye fell shut again. “Looking for me?”

“Kind of.”

There was a pause as she started the truck. He always left the keys in the ignition. No one would steal his truck, anyways. It wasn’t much of a drive, but it had been a while since she had driven a car anyways. She was a little out of practice.

“Did you sleep with that girl?”

He wheezed. It was probably a laugh. “Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Sleep with Coop?”

“Yeah.”

Quiet again. Neither of them spoke until she parked next to the empty field by her shed, behind the bar. Cooper had added a gate to the fence, so she didn’t have to go through the bar every time she wanted to leave home. But when she turned off the truck, they sat there.

“Did you kill her?” Saying it out loud revealed how weak she was. It was a pain in her chest when he didn’t reply right away. She had been jealous over a woman being potentially tortured.

“Naw.”

“Did you want to?”

“A little.”

She nodded faintly, staring at the steering wheel. “How many people have you killed since…since we broke up?”

He sighed, thinking about it, or sleeping. Or something. “Dunno.”

“A lot?”

“Not a lot. Just don’t count.” He shifted, actually sitting up. “Does it bother you?”

“Of course it does. You’re a murderer and…and I was jealous of that fucking woman. You know I was. That’s why I ran off with Cooper and fucked him.”

“Was he any good?”

“Absolutely not.”

She left the conversation at that, sliding out of the truck as Black rasped and wheezed in an attempt to laugh. He sounded a lot like an asthmatic donkey. But he obeyed and took groceries and shuffled after her to her shed.

“Okay.” She could take the situation back. “You lay on the couch and behave so I can make this crap for you.”

“Yes’m.”

His tone made her pause. It made her glad that she turned to watch him collapse bodily into her couch face down, his arm draping off of the side of the couch and onto the floor. He was sick and tired, and willing to behave for her. It was a nice feeling.

“You want the TV on?”

“Please.”

“Oh, so behaved now that we’re feverish.” Despite the insult, she stepped up behind the couch, reaching over to get the remote, clicking it on. “I’m putting on that antique show. You liked that one, right?”

He hummed his agreement, flopping over onto his side, folding his arms across his belly as he settled to watch. Well behaved. Compliant.

“You want some Gatorade? We bought some for you.” He didn’t respond, his side rising and falling slowly. So she reached down, smoothing her hand over his temple. His hair was soaked. “Black? Can you drink some Gatorade for me?”

His response was to stick his hand out. Lovely.

But he got his drink and she got to cooking. It was a bit awkward, using a singular hot plate to prepare a full casserole, but she managed it. She was creative. First she had to cook the chicken, then boil the noodles. Preparing the sauce, mixing it all together, all of it. Eventually, she had it spooned into a glass dish, covered with foil and stashed in her fridge. It did need to set a little, so while that happened, she rounded the couch, squinting down at the half dead patient.

Was he sleeping? Maybe. Hard to tell. But he was quiet, the tv casting lights on the crags and scars of his face. He was so fucking ugly, but she knew that face better than she knew her own. How many times had she looked at that face, kissed those lips?

Stupid.

Sidling over, she came up beside the couch, reaching down to pat at his shoulder. He grumbled, his head turning.

“Sit up a little.”

“Why?” His throat clicked audibly, his breath quickening. “I was-”

“Sleeping, I know. The casserole needs to set and I want to sit down. Lift up.”

He growled, but did as she asked, propping himself up. It was stupid. She was stupid, but she slid in and sat on the couch, patting at his shoulder. It took him a moment to get it, but he sank back down, resting his head in her lap. His head was so fucking heavy.

But she settled a hand on his shoulder, the other in his hair. Maybe it was habit, but she toyed with his hair anyways, rubbing the dirty, sweaty strands between her fingers. There was no describing the sigh that he let out, world weary and exhausted.

It was weird. All of it was weird. Sitting on her couch, watching a stupid antique show with a murderer’s head in her lap. As he sighed. And napped. Because he was sick.

That was not how she intended her day to go. It probably wasn’t how he intended his day to go either. But there they were. Two adults.

“Missed you,” he sighed suddenly, though it was soft in the room.

“Shut up.”

He chuckled, rolling his head to blink up at her. “I do though.”

“I will again establish that you never actually knew me, so you’re not allowed to miss me. You just missed a warm, easily accessible hole and a live in chef and maid.”

“Maybe. Cute hole, though.”

“Okay, ew.”

Again with the laugh. And she still played with his hair, even as he rested a bit hand on her knee and rubbed it lightly.

“Black?”

“Mmhm?”

“What happened with Ryan?”

His expression darkened. Even from that weird angle, she could see how angry he looked, even if it was just for a split second. She could guess.

“You kill him for me?”

“Naw. But he’s paying for it.”

What? That didn’t make sense. It was a normal conversation. Somehow it was normal, with Black. 

“What did you do to him?”

“Pretty sure you don’t want to hear it.”

“Tell me. I do.” Slipping her hand from his shoulder, she rested her fingers over his throat, stroking over the dip under his adam’s apple. “I want to know what you’ve done to him. Don’t leave out any details.”

“Yeah?” He side-eyed her, but shrugged. “He’s still alive. Gave him his own shed to think about what he did. Gave him some meat. He’s determined to live. Been eating it.”

“Like you did with me.”

“Mm? Sure. Except I didn’t cut anything off of you.”

“Oh? What’d you cut off of him?”

“His legs. Used my blow torch to seal it off after. Screamed like a little cunt the whole time.”

She laughed softly, lacing her fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands. “Good.”

“Yeah?” He rolled onto his back, breath hitching and choking a little as his sinuses reflooded with liquid. “That’s different.”

“He stabbed me. Groped me. Wanted to rape me. I don’t like him very much.” Then again, Black had done all that to her. But that implied she liked him. She did smooth her hand through his hair. And he did close his eyes. Relaxation. “When it comes time to kill him? I’d like to watch.”

His eyes snapped open, his body bucking from the couch. That was concerning, but his crooked grin and wide eyes were something different.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t make a big thing of it. He was a problem and I’m a little more familiar with watching people die than I was before. I’d prefer if it was you, but I’ll take Ryan too. Learning experience.”

“Alright, sure. If you want. I’ll show you.”

“Don’t get too excited. This isn’t about you.”

Still he grinned, settling back against her lap. Looking up at her like that. She scowled, but it was hard to really pinpoint how she felt about it. She didn’t know that kind of smile, that kind of look, and she really needed to get away from it.

“Whatever,” she sighed, rolling her eyes upwards. “Your casserole just needs to be cooked. I have dinner tonight with Cooper. So go away.”

“Yeah? Is he coming here? You going to his place?”

“Going to his place.”

“You cook for him before?”

“Oh my god,” she sighed, shoving at his head, ignoring his chortle as she slid out from underneath him. “You aren’t special, Black.”

“Aren’t I?”

Snatching the pillow up from the edge of her couch, she whirled and slapped it down on his face. It was just to get him to stop hiccupping and laughing at her. Stupid bastard.


	9. Trophy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sep earns herself some trophies. She deserves them.

Min was staring at her.

That was weird.

Glancing across the bar, she continued to polish the tables, but there was no doubting that the bartender was just staring at her. Continuously. Even without blinking for a long time. Which was very weird, and normally she would like to ignore it, but that was a lot. So she had to sigh, leaning on the table as she made a big point of turning and making eye contact.

Min blinked, and smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Min.”

“Yeah?”

“Is there a reason you’re staring at me like that?”

“Am I staring? I didn’t-”

“Min. Come on. Is there something you want to say to me?”

The bartender puffed a few times, but tossed her hands up, heaving a sigh. “Yeah, okay, fine, I have been staring at you. But that’s not weird. You’re the one that’s weird.”

“Me? What did I do?” She could finish polishing the tables later. Instead, she came over to the bar, if only so they didn’t have to shout at each other the entire time.

“You’ve been smiling. The whole time you’ve been here.”

“Oh. And that’s weird?”

“It is for you. Sorry to tell you, honey, but you don’t really smile a whole lot, especially not when you’re doing something idle like cleaning tables. Have you finally completely snapped, or are you actually happy now?”

A good question. She opened her mouth to reply, but no words came because she didn’t know what to explain. Had she been smiling? And if so, then why? Nothing had really changed. She had the same job, the same shed. There had been the addition of a boyfriend, but he was just… Cooper definitely wasn’t why she was smiling.

So what had changed? What could give her reason to smile in the quiet moments?

She shrugged, which earned her a grunt from Min. Not what she was looking for, but okay. It didn’t much matter.

“I’m glad you’re happy. I think. Wait, are you pregnant? Please don’t be pregnant, I don’t want-”

“Min!” She laughed, slapping at the bartender. “I can’t get pregnant. Infertile and on birth control.” That brought to mind the implant in her arm. How long ago had she gotten that? She should at least think about seeing an actual doctor, getting a checkup. It might be better than struggling to get her knee to work on her own.

“Well good. Make sure that you don’t. You’re the best waitress I’ve ever had and I won’t be giving you up to a baby or to Cooper or to- Black?”

“Black? Why would you-” Min wasn’t looking at her, instead looking over her head, so she turned.

Black was indeed there, standing in the doorway of the bar. It had only been a few days since she had last seen him, but even from that distance, she could tell he looked world’s better. He had color back to his cheeks, and he didn’t gleam with sticky sick sweat like before.

He grinned, coming into the bar without waiting for an invitation. Not that he needed one, but he stopped beside the bar to set down a covered baking dish on the wood surface.

“What are you doing here, McGrath? You know how I feel about you being around my waitress.”

“Had to return a dish, that’s all,” he drawled, thudding an elbow, turning to face her. “That casserole of yours worked wonders, cher. Ate it all up and felt brand new. Real kind of you to make it for me.”

“Oh. I mean, it was just to get you to shut up. So. Don’t read into it.”

“Too late.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, but ultimately, she was too curious about her baking dish to focus much longer on him. “Thanks for bringing this back.”

“‘Course. Now, I know you’re a California girl so you don’t know, but my mama always told me to never return a dish empty.” Nudging the dish towards her, he waved over it. “Baked up my mama’s hummingbird cake for you. You never made any desserts…when we were dating.”

“You baked for me?” She couldn’t resist pulling back the foil on top, peering over the white frosting within. “That’s…nice of you.”

He rumbled, nodding to Min as he took a step back. “Have a good day now.”

“Oh. Yeah. Uh. Bye.” She gave an awkward wave, watching him leave the bar. She stared at the doorway for longer than was strictly necessary, and she knew that. She also knew that the stare started up again, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to turn back and deal with that.

“Sep.”

It seemed she had no option to avoid it. Sighing, she turned to look at Min, because there was no other option but to meet the disapproving stare of her friend.

“Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t-” Min broke off her words, running her fingers through her hair. It didn’t go all the way through since her braid stopped her about halfway, but it did something. “You are with Cooper. Cooper is good for you. Do not get back with your ex. That is never-”

“I’m not getting back with Black. I came across him in the grocery store the other day, so I made him a casserole I used to cook for us when we were dating.” Wow, that lie was getting easier and easier to say out loud. “That’s all. We’re just trying to be friends.”

“And you shouldn’t want to be friends with him! Sep! Am I the only one who remembers the panic attack over a fucking bath? Or the fact that you, I don’t know, attempted to kill yourself?”

“I remember! Of course I remember.” How could she forget? “But I can’t live in fear my whole life. If I can live here and be happy, then great. I’m going to try and do that.”

“Sep. Babe. Sweetheart. Whatever.” Min leaned over, laying a big hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly. “Someone who hurts you that bad doesn’t deserve to know you. You never told me what he did, but fuck if I couldn’t see it. He did something horrible to you, and men like that will do it again if you let them. Don’t give him the chance.”

“I know! I know. I know he would, and this is just…” Her breath wavered, her fist pressing over an eye, trying to stop the burning. “You of all people should know how it feels to look back on a past relationship. All the bads start to fade away and all you remember are the goods. Just…I can’t be afraid forever. I can’t.”

“So you do want to get back with him.”

“No!” No? Fuck no. She hated him. She hated his curling blond hair tangled around her fingers, the low mumble he let out when she scraped her nails over the soft spot just under his ear. “I’m with Cooper. Even if we all know he’s just a rebound.”

“It’s dangerous. If you think I didn’t see how soft your eyes got when you looked at McGrath, you’ve got another thing coming. I don’t know what he did to you. I don’t need to know. But I know you’re playing with fire here.”

“Just…I’m okay. I’ve got this knee to remind me that-” She choked on her words, her eyes widening just as Min’s expression twisted up in rage.

“He did that to your leg?”

Fuck. Panic laced through her heart, but why? What for? Worry that someone would discover what Black had done? What he continued to do?

She supposed that answered a few questions for her. She really didn’t want him to get caught. She didn’t want to lose him.

Because she wanted to kill him. She wanted to see him bleed, and gasp, and beg for her to stop, and-

Goodness, when had it become so hard to breathe? She was gasping again, hands fisted in her hair as she wheezed. Embarrassing, really, because Min had to cluck and hold her again, ever patient, ever understanding of the bullshit she put the both of them through. No one should have to deal with that mess, but there she was, putting them through it time and time again because she couldn’t control her emotions.

But there was always a breaking point.

Wriggling out of Min’s grip, she stumbled away a few steps. She had to grow, had to strengthen and-

“I’m okay. I’m not getting back with Black. I don’t blame him for any of this. Everything that happened to me, I am at least partially to blame.”

“Sep. That’s not healthy either.”

At that point, who could say what healthy was? But she breathed in, and she straightened her back. She had shown some kind of strength before, in Black’s home, in her will to survive. She could morph that strength and move forward. Look Black in the eye and laugh, and be that untouchable thing that he grinned at with a light in his eyes that she had never seen before.

“We have too much to prep for tonight. Let’s work on that.”

Min sighed, but shrugged in the end, heading back behind the bar. “You worry me sometimes, Sep.”

“I worry myself most of the time, so that’s fair.” Make it a joke, laugh it off. 

The only thing she could do in her current life was laugh. What else was she supposed to do? Nothing made sense. Life had never made sense in general, but even less sense in that moment.

Work was fine. Nothing special. She served food and drink, chatting with regular customers, put on a face while her thoughts swirled around. She should be concerned with Min figuring things out.

She was mostly concerned with the look Black had given her. It was a bit odd. A bit different. She was, in all likelihood, reading too far into it. She was good at that. Always had been. The curse of her youth.

Her youth? Where had her life gone? How old was she anymore? Ancient? Too old? Probably. Gone through life, experiencing too much, not enough. Never had a proper relationship, but been held captive and made to eat human meat.

What fun. What a learning experience. What stories to be told.

The evening started to slide into a close, and she put on her smile when she saw Cooper’s familiar face at a table in the corner.

“Hey sweetheart,” he sighed, drawing her in for a cheek kiss. “Work been okay?”

“Yeah, it’s been fine. Made plenty of tips.” She leaned into his side, taking a moment to close her eyes, relax and not think about her problems. “Mind if I come over tonight?”

“That sounds great. I’d love to have you over.”

Good. She had a proper distraction she could focus on. Maybe have a little completely-unsatisfactory sex, and so on. It’d be great. She could continue to pretend that she was normal, and not at all concerning as a person.

All of life was a process of causing problems and solving them. The beginning of her life had been a little more normal, but as she got older, she just made more and more mistakes. Some were life threatening, and others were just generally concerning. Some things were obvious. Some she didn’t want to think about.

But work wrapped up, and she offered to help clean up, but Min shooed her away. In all likelihood, her boss was relieved to see that she was spending more time with Cooper. She was being ridiculous, thinking that she was going to get back with Black. Black was bad news in so many fronts, far beyond anything that she could properly address.

How bad was that? In bed with another man, thinking of another. But that was nothing new anyways. Cooper was probably completely acceptable in bed. She was just hard to please. Whatever she had to do to convince herself that she wasn’t awful was fine. She had done much worse.

Whatever her excuses, she went to Cooper’s small home with him. They had sex, she pretended to orgasm, and then settled down to sleep. If there was one thing Cooper was good at, it was cuddling for sleep. To think that she had once hated cuddling. Obviously, she had been trained to tolerate it, even enjoy it. The wonders of constant cuddling, whether she liked it or not.

Her sleep was dreamless. It was quite comfortable, a sleep that she was happy to continue. She didn’t have work in the morning, so she was happy to just laze about in bed, maybe be extra nice to Cooper in the morning reward him for being a good man to a shitty woman.

That was the intent. That was the hope.

What she had instead was a hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake.

“Fuck, what,” she grumbled, rolling onto her back to blink up at Cooper’s blurry image.

“Sorry to wake you, sweetheart, but I need to get going. You’re welcome to stay and use the shower, but could you make sure to put some food out for the cats before you go?”

“Ugh, alright, fine. Where are you going anyways?” The moment she asked, she knew she was going to hate the answer. She had a feeling, and yet-

“Delilah called. Something came up and I need to go help her with it. I-”

“Yeah, alright. Okay. Fine. Go ahead.”

Cooper and those damn girls. She flopped back down into bed, scowling at the wall. It was fine. She didn’t care for him, he didn’t care for her, it was fine.

Maybe that was why Black had tried to warn her. No matter what she did, she always had to compete against her two employees. It shouldn’t make her as mad as it did, but why shouldn’t it? She was a serviceable woman. She should be enough to keep his attention, but she wasn’t. Everything always went back to those girls.

He must have been a good boss to work for. Having a boss so devoted to you, making sure you had everything covered at all times was probably amazing.

Min was a lot like that for her. Somehow, it didn’t feel as concerning when Min was like that.

Whatever it was, she couldn’t bring herself to stay in bed once Cooper left. She didn’t exactly feel right, being alone in someone’s house like that. Brought back memories, though Cooper’s house was markedly different from Black’s.

While Black had nearly countless trinkets of bone and stone around, Cooper had a great deal of taxidermied animals. It made sense, but it was still weird to roll over and see a curled up fox on the cabinet. He was very good at what he did.

How long had he been doing it? She had no idea. She should ask him at some point. If she cared to know more.

She really didn’t. Because she was a shit.

Hauling herself out of bed, she did go and shower, like he said she could. Avoiding the eyes of all the dead animals in the house was a bit of a challenge, but she was getting better at it. It reminded her of her years of working retail. Customers loved to stare rather than speak. Instead of pasty old people, she had to deal with dead animals. It was an improvement.

Ugh, she had some hopes of sitting and having a nice breakfast with Cooper. Because she was hungry, ands he wanted some fucking pancakes. The idea of making them for herself made her downright angry, so there was only one other option.

The diner. Any looming memory felt worth it to go and get some proper diner food. So fine. She’d suck it up, put on her clothes from the night before, and head down to the diner. She   
should be concerned with the fact that she did not have any belongings in his place yet, but fine. He didn’t have much at her place anyways. Some sweats, a few tools to tighten up his prosthetic arm, nothing special. It was still more than what she had.

Sighing, she fluffed her fingers through her wet hair, stepping out of his house. She turned to make sure the front door was locked, jiggling the handle a few times. Nothing in her life was equal. Hell, even her legs were crooked.

A glance down at her knee made her stomach twist up. It was just one of many scars that she was going to have to live with for the rest of her life. She had raised lines across her back from when Ryan tried to kill her. Her palms were rough and raised from when she grabbed the cast iron pan to defend herself. She had some bite marks on her thighs, one on her ass, if she remembered correctly. Her throat had some lines around it from where the leather collar had bit into her flesh.

It was fine. She had no qualms against scars. She’d gotten hurt and come out the other side. It was fine, she was fine, and there was absolutely nothing to worry about.

The scent of grease and sugar wafted from the diner as she limped her way up to it, making her stomach gurgle hungrily. It smelled like food in the worst way, quickening her step so she could haul open the glass door all the faster, hobbling inside.

There was some relief to see that Ruby wasn’t working that day. Instead, she was greeted by another waitress that she didn’t remember the name of. Whoever she was, she bid her to sit wherever she wanted.

A booth would be nice. Something about booths felt contained, safe, and that was something she had sought long before she had met Black. Scanning the diner, she looked for an empty booth and instead found the curly blond hair that she was shockingly familiar with.

Choosing not to think about it, she limped up to the booth, sliding into the empty seat across from him.

Black peered over a newspaper, a cup of coffee in hand. It took him a moment to drag his eyes up from it, his mild irritation melting away to something different. Probably surprise.

“Good morning,” she sighed, slapping her hand on the sticky menu that sat crookedly in front of him, dragging it over. “Order yet?”

“Naw. Good morning to you too.” In her peripheral, she saw him lift his mug of coffee to his lips, but his eyes remained on her. “You alright?”

“So kind of you to ask. I’m fine. A little pissed that my boyfriend left bed early to go tend to his employee’s every whim, but yeah, I’m fine.” Flipping through the menu, she peered over the descriptions of the food. “That man, I swear.”

He rumbled, thumping down his mug, resuming his reading.

It was quiet. Weird. She set down the menu, peering out the window beside them at the street beyond. A few cars passed, a couple stood and talked on the corner a little bit away. But it was normal. Normal enough that when she looked at the beast across the table, her heart remained steady. Calm.

When the waitress came around, Black waved his hand vaguely towards her, not lifting his eyes from the paper. She ordered quickly, and like that, everything was back to that weird sense of normal that they had had. It was a little different, but it was still surprisingly similar.

Eating breakfast with Black McGrath. What a world.

“Like the cake?”

“Mm? Oh, haven’t had a chance to try it yet. Had to work. It’s at home, though. I’m excited to try it.”

“Think you’ll like it. I always did.” Folding up his newspaper, he set it aside, giving it a wholly unnecessary pat.

“It was nice of you to make it. You bake for all the people of town?”

He nodded faintly, folding his arm on the table, his other hand used for him to thump his cheek onto his fist. He watched her. She watched him, and they just quietly stared at each other. It was a weird sensation. It was hard to know what to say or do.

“Um. You…” She trailed off, patting her hands awkwardly on the table. “You look good.”

A smile quirked at his lips, tugging at the crescent moon scar there. She remembered how that scar felt on her own lips. The split, the soft divide that she knew far more intimately than she thought she would.

“What have you been up to?” It was a bit weird, trying to maintain conversation with him. Get to know him.

“Work.” He shrugged, rolling his eyes to the window, watching as a family walked by. “Been working on a dresser for Beth. The grocery store lady?”

“Working on a… You make furniture?”

“Sometimes.”

“No kidding? A real jack of all trades, huh?”

“Good with my hands.”

“Yeah. I knew that.” She rolled her eyes, unable to stop her smile at his soft guffaw. “You and Ruby hook up yet?”

His lip curled, a sneer that she knew well. “Too desperate.”

“Oh? The great Black McGrath has taste? Has people he doesn’t want to fuck? Pinch me, I must be dreaming.”

“Maybe I’m just saving myself for marriage.”

She blinked at him, trying to remember what it was like to breathe. A perfect time for their food to arrive. “Was that a joke? Did you just tell a joke?”

“I do that.”

“Not with me.”

“This is the first we’ve talked, I think.”

That gave her pause. “Yeah. I think so too.”

There was some general silence as they started to eat their breakfast, sitting across each other like they had so long ago. It was different. Namely in that she actually had underwear on. Probably didn’t wear that in the entire time that she had been with him.

“This is nice.”

The words were out before she could stop them. She had a nasty habit of speaking without thinking. She was a problem. But the words were out, and she couldn’t take them back. Not that it mattered. Black didn’t even pause, just picking up his mug of coffee to wash down his mouthful of food.

But he rumbled, and it wasn’t that bad.

They finished eating, him much sooner than her, but he didn’t bail. He sat back, picking his teeth and letting her finish her meal. His long legs bumped up against hers, and when she looked across the table at him, she felt no fear. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t afraid, and she-

“You should come over.”

There it was. Her heart clenched up, and she jerked back.

“Why?” She hissed, eyes narrowing at him.

“Have something to show you. Something you wanted to see.” His eyes darkened, just a little. She knew what it meant.

“Oh. Um. That’s a thought.” Something to consider. Something to deny.

Or should she? She did want to see Ryan die. But to go back to Black’s place again? She supposed she had forgotten about that so long ago. That she would have to go back to his home to see Ryan die. Should she risk it? He could lock her up again.

But she had witnesses now. Min suspected Black. If she disappeared, Min would drag Black to the police in two seconds flat. And while he did seem a bit slow at times, he was smart enough to know that he would be setting himself up for failure if he did anything to her. People had known about her before, but she hadn’t been a part of the world in town. She lived there, worked there. People would notice her disappearing.

And she wanted to see it. She wanted to see Ryan die.

“Okay,” she rasped, rubbing the back of her neck. “Sure.”

He grinned crookedly, that darkness shifting to light. “Bit of a drive. You ready?”

“I guess? How does one prepare themselves for this?” She reached for her pocket, for her wallet, but Black beat her to it, slapping down some bills. “I didn’t join you for you to pay for my food.”

“May be puking it up in a minute. Least I can do.”

“Oh shut up.”

Normal words that anyone could say. But when they were paired with her thudding her fist into his shoulder, topped off with his soft chuckle, it felt…

Flirty.

For fuck’s sake, what was wrong with her? She twitched back, but he didn’t seem to notice. They just headed out of the diner, and she mentally cursed herself as they walked back to the familiar truck.

The choices she made were quite questionable. Getting into that truck, into the passenger seat. Going back to his home. Goodness, there were a lot of memories. She was stuck in them, quiet as he started to drive. Interesting memories.

She was wet. For fuck’s sake, for all that was holy, her cunt was wet.

Curling her fingers in her shorts, she breathed out slowly, staring out the window at the passing trees. Fuck.

“You alright?”

“This is where I first really kissed you.”

He rumbled. It made the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

“This is weird, right? After everything you did to me. Me, voluntarily dealing with you again.”

“Thought you were waiting to kill me. That’s all, right?”

“Sure. Yeah. That.” She glanced over, at his profile. “I don’t know how to talk to you. I feel weird. I hate you. I absolutely hate you. But if I did, then…wouldn’t I have told the cops?”

“Don’t go talking about feelings now.”

“Yeah, I know. Bit of a weird topic for you, huh?” She laughed weakly, tugging at her shorts, staring determinedly at her knee brace. Let it remind her of the first time that they met. “I’ve got a lot of them. About you. Confusing ones. Got nothing for Cooper, though. I mean, he’s nice, but…” A soft groan left her lips, irritation. “Those damn girls.”

“Told you he wouldn’t love you.”

“Yeah yeah, you were right. Whatever.” Cooper was a good topic. Distracting. “The hell is up with his scars, though? Like I know how you have yours, but him? His face? His throat? Hell, his chest? He go through a wood chipper?”

“Someone tried to kill him long time ago. Not my place to say who.”

“Oh no kidding? Huh.” She started to turn away, but paused. “Was it you? Did you try to kill him?”

He snorted, tapping a knuckle on his hat, knocking it back a bit further on his head. “Naw. He is my type, though.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that? What’s your type?”

He eyed her for a moment, but shrugged it off, mentally and physically. “Big. Something to hold on to. Puts up a good fight. I like wrestling.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

Why the hell did she say that? She shouldn’t tempt fate, but she had to admit something. Maybe not out loud, but to herself. Something kind of secret, something she would bury deep if she ever did get into therapy.

She liked seeing him light up at being able to share.

He got a big, goofy grin, and when he started to talk, he could only keep one hand on the wheel, the other waving about as he described what he liked about wrestling, the struggle. He talked about how he used to wrestle and get into fights for fun when he was younger. He liked the strain, the test of his body, feeling his own strength and how he could overpower.

She kind of smiled, watching him talk. A lot of it was rooted in the murder of other people, but listening to him was interesting. She didn’t think she’d ever heard him talk that much, and certainly not with that energy. Hell, she didn’t know he could have that energy unless he was killing someone.

But they made it to his house. And that brought back even more memories.

“Well,” he sighed, shutting the truck off. “Home sweet home.”

A place that she knew better than any other home she had ever lived in. She was only there for a few months, but she knew it. It was etched into her DNA, a place that had slid over her entirely. Old trees casting heavy shadows, water logged mud, tall grasses and so many small, broken down sheds. A place where he kept his cars, a place where he kept errant pets, a place where so many people had died.

And she had gone there willingly.

“Right.” She swallowed hard, eyes darting around the space. “You let the garden die.”

“It was your thing. No point in keeping it after you were gone.”

There was some thought to remind him that she had tried to come back, but there was no point. She slid out of the truck, her knees shaking. The old, ivy covered house loomed threateningly, dark porch heavy with the past.

She was okay. Everything was okay.

“Over here.”

“Hm? Oh. Okay. Yeah.” Keep her breathing steady. Don’t panic. She was in the yard where she had gardened, where she had been chained, where-

She remembered. She didn’t need to remind herself, over and over again. She just needed to get through it. She was walking willingly beside the man, following him down the narrow path in the grass towards one of the many sheds.

The leaning shape wasn’t familiar to her. One of the many that she hadn’t gotten close to. Already, she wondered what could possibly be inside, even though she already knew, even though he had already told her.

He deftly twisted the code into the lock on the door, hauling it open wide for her. She knew the smell more acutely than anything else. The rot, the slide of wet flesh, squirming bugs in a wasted corpse.

She shuddered from head to toe, lifting her chin as Black stepped into the shadows. It took a moment for her to track it, but the splits in the boards let in enough warm, dust-filled light for her to see clearly.

A corpse in the corner. It must have been a woman once, with the bright yellow fat slid crookedly on its chest. There were pieces of it missing. Parts of it were more rotten than others. It didn’t have a face. It was crushed up skull, taken in a rage.

That might have been her. But it wasn’t. She was standing there, staring at it. It could have been her, it would have been her.

“Well,” Black drawled, the sound thick and wet in his throat. “Always a surprise to see you still kicking, Ryan.”

Right. She shook herself out of it, following Black into the shed. The big man lumbered over to a corner, hunching down over to another lump. He grabbed at it, shoved it, shaking it roughly until it sputtered rough curses at him.

“McGrath,” Ryan sputtered, his voice even whinier than she remembered. “Back to-”

“Come get a look. See it.”

“What are you-”

“He’s not talking to you,” she spat, the words rising before she could think of it. But there they were. She was standing in the shed with a corpse and a legless bastard. “He’s talking to me.”

Black slid to the side, letting her see Ryan. Letting her see that bastard.

He was uglier than she remembered. Twisted, bubbled scars across part of his face from the oil she had flung. His saggy flesh was even soggier, the red around his eyes even more pronounced. Bile had dried on his chin and chest, his body rebelling against his human meat meals. Gaunt and broken, his body was mostly skin and bones with crooked, badly healed stumps for legs.

He was a monster, inside and out. Ryan had suffered.

Not enough.

She sneered, looking him over. “You look like shit, Ryan.”

“You. You!” His eyes started to bug out of his skull, his broken body wriggling against Black’s grip on his shoulder. “How the fuck are you still-”

“Blackie took me to the hospital after you stabbed me, you sick fuck.” Blackie? Geezus. She was slipping. “Didn’t get to kill me after all, huh?”

“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck-”

“Shut up,” Black snarled, slamming Ryan back into the ground, jerking the words out of him.

That was nice. She hummed, drumming her fingers on her cheek. “This is a good look for him.”

“Isn’t it?” The beast grinned over his shoulder at her, his eyes alight with that delight that she had only seen a few times. “Feels good?”

It did. It really did. If she squinted, if she let logic slide, it was like watching Black suffer. Ryan had hurt her, stabbed her, wanted to rape her. It was good to see someone receive punishment for doing terrible things to her. She could stare at it for hours, see what kind of creature Ryan had been reduced to for being a creepy piece of shit.

But Black had asked her a question.

“It does,” she sighed, tilting her head to the side, watching that willowy, naked shell of a human breathe, rattling against the ground, pinned by Black’s hand. “I’m surprised he isn’t dead.”

“Kept him alive for you.” Black beamed, grinned, every crooked, yellow tooth exposed. “You like it?”

“I do. I really do.”

He lit up even more. His breathing was fast. If she was a betting woman, she’d put down money that his dick was hard.

“How do you want him to die?”

That woke up Ryan again. The monster started to writhe, sputtering out curses, like he could somehow win against the weight that was the beast.

A choice. She didn’t really expect to be presented with a choice. It snapped her out of her fascinated stare, made her meet Black’s expectant stare. That would really take away the divide. She would no longer be a witness. She would be complicit in a man’s death, more so than the detective that had come looking for her. Her decision would end a life. She would be the one to take a heartbeat from the cacophony that echoed in the world.

She should leave. It would be best to take that decision away from herself. Deny accountability, leave and let a life end without her influence.

Something bubbled in her belly. Something dark, something she didn’t want to think about.

“Cut his head off. Slowly.”

Black barked out a delighted laugh, slapping his hand to his belt at his lower back. She always forgot he had a knife there. But he dragged it out, shifting his stance and flinging Ryan across the ground to skid to a stop at her feet.

Somehow, she didn’t take a step back. She stood there like a statue as Black slammed his knee into Ryan’s lower back, clapping his hand in the smarmy shit’s hair to bend him backwards like the morbid figurehead on the ship of death.

That was when it became real for Ryan. His sputtering twisted into sobs, tears and snot streaking down his cheeks. He had the audacity to beg for his life, all strength gone. He knew he was done for. After all those months of surviving on a corpse for food, he was going to be ended for her entertainment.

It was happening. She watched as Black shifted his stance, bringing his wicked knife around to Ryan’s neck. It was like the detail had been enhanced, the silver tip of the blade piercing the flesh almost pornographically slow. The first spray of blood made her gasp. Ryan screamed, tried to wriggle.

The flesh of Ryan’s neck offered no resistance. His screams twisted into gurgles, fading for a moment as his eyes rolled back in his head. His body wanted to give up. He started to slump until the knife hit his spine. When the blade skated across bone, he awoke once more, shrieked with renewed vigor. He jolted, skewing up bile and chunks on her legs.

She didn’t step back.

The knife grated horrible against the bone until it found the gap in between the vertebrae, biting through, separating it. That was when Ryan truly died, his body shuddering as his eyes sank back further. No more fight, no more life in the rest of the sawing, as the head separated from the body. The torso thudded to the ground, nothing but meat.

Black sat back, holding the head aloft for her, dangling from the handful of oily hair. It swayed, jaw hanging open, eyes rolled back. An offering.

She stared at it. Ryan’s head. Cut off. For her. A dead man, killed for her, separated from the body, a head, just a head, empty of everything.

Only when the hot blood touched her palms did she know she had reached out for it. She cupped her hands on the bloody cheeks, lifting it. Black let go of it, letting her hold it alone. Letting her stare at it. Her trophy, the proof of her survival. She kept staring at it as she stepped back, giving herself a little space. She took a deep breath.

And then she let out a scream as she slung the head down as hard as she could at the ground. It made a hollow splat, bouncing once, wobbling in place. It sat there, offering nothing more, but she screamed again. It felt good to let it out. When she had no more air in her lungs, she stared down at her feet.

There was a lot of blood on her legs, mixed in with the bile.

Black’s wheezing breath woke her again. It drew her attention back up. He was still kneeling there, eyes wide, teeth bared in his grin, just looking at her. Something should be said. She should do something. She swallowed hard.

“Thank you,” she whispered, feeling the blood drip from her finger tips. “I feel better.”

He beamed. He rose to his feet, loomed over her, his chest heaving with his breath. He was standing very close to her.

Closing her eyes, she shivered as his breath washed over her temple. He leaned down. He was a feral beast, a wild animal. She had to move very carefully. She wasn’t immune, was she? When he was in a killing rut, he would no doubt take her out without much consideration.

“Well. Can I use your shower?”

He laughed, the sound rough and gravelly. “Sure. You know where it is.”

“Right. You going to fuck Ryan’s body while I’m gone?” She craned her head up, somehow managing to lift her brow up at him. Somehow aloof. Somehow joking.

“Naw. Toss him to the gators though.”

“Oh wait, I want to see that too.”

Black barked out a laugh, slinging his arm around her so suddenly that she very nearly pissed herself. But it was just a hug, apparently, as his hand cupped the back of her neck, drawing her in so he could nuzzle in to the top of her head. It was a weird bit, a strange movement that had her hands snapping up to press against his belly, her fingers curling in his dirty shirt.

It felt genuine in a way that she didn’t recognize. He’d never touched her like that.

“Never been as fucking sexy as you are now, cher,” he chuckled, breath puffing against her hair. “Sure. Let’s go feed the gators.”

Oh. Okay. Sure. That was a normal thing to say. She stepped aside, letting him stoop down to hoist up Ryan’s body.

“Grab the head for me?”

“Sure, yeah.”

Because why not. She picked up the head, and she followed along obediently as Black stomped his way out of the shed. They trailed along behind his house. He hoisted and flung the body like it weighed nothing. The water took a moment to seethe, gators coming in to grab at the broken body, tearing at it with gusto.

Right. She sniffed, tossing the head into the mess, watching quietly as the jaws of a gator clamped down on it, shattering the skull. Ryan, torn apart before her eyes.

Black’s thick arm draped over her shoulder, dragging her against his side. She tilted into it. Leaned into him.

“You didn’t puke,” he murmured.

She sure didn’t.


End file.
